


Picking Up the Pieces

by TwilightMoonbeams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-11 15:17:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 50,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2073072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightMoonbeams/pseuds/TwilightMoonbeams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life isn't over after the war, but at times, it sure seems like it for those who survived. Slowly they cope with the loss of their loved ones as they try to repair their world and remember how to be happy once again - A collection of one shots depicting the lost years before the epilogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 15 May 1998

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been floating around in my head for a while. I always wondered how the gang got along between the end of the story and the epilogue, so here's my version. All the stories are connected but each chapter focuses on a different character.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life at The Burrow takes an unexpected turn when Shacklebolt arrives with an interesting proposal

Harry finished stacking the dishes in the cupboard at The Burrow. He took great comfort in doing his chores the muggle way now. It hadn't even been a fortnight since the fateful events that transpired at Hogwarts. The echo of their fallen friends still hung in the air and Harry knew he wasn't the only one who was wracked with guilt.

"Harry dear," Molly poked her head in the window, "I can finish up in here."

"It's alright," he told her. "I don't mind."

"Well you're wasting time doing it the muggle way," she pulled out her wand to magic the dishes to their place. "I need the kitchen to prepare dinner."

Harry was a bright boy. He took the hint and meandered into the hall where he found Ginny's door ajar. He peeked inside and found her sitting on her bed, Hermione opposite her. He tapped lightly on the oak door.

"Harry!" Hermione smiled at him. "We were just thinking of taking the brooms out and playing a quick game of Quidditch."

"You, Quidditch?" he chuckled at his friend.

"We could all do with some cheering up," Ginny piped in. "Something to get our minds off of...everything."

"I don't know how that will go over with your mum," he laughed. "She's already got dinner started."

"She'll have our heads if we start a game now," Ginny sighed. "Maybe afterward."

They all agreed to scrap the Quidditch talk and step out into the garden. Mum was expecting a few more faces at the table tonight so they set up outside. Harry fetched the dishes he had just cleaned and began placing them at the table they had conjured. Meanwhile Hermione busied herself picking flowers from the garden and Ginny searched for a pot to put them in.

The table was nearly finished when Ron stepped out into the cool night air. He pulled out the deluminator Dumbledore had gifted him and opened it so a dozen fairy lights dangled over the table. Hermione's face lit up when she saw him.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"I had to see a man about a car," he replied.

"You don't fool me," she scoffed. "You haven't even got a muggle driving permit."

"Well, with the old Anglia lost in the forbidden forest," Ron explained, "I'm trying to convince dad to get another. He loved fixing up the last one."

"Come inside you lot!" Molly shouted from the kitchen window.

They dutifully followed her voice and each took a dish out to the table. Hermione charmed the serving platters to keep the food warm and Ron charmed the carafes to refill themselves. Slowly, the rest of their guests arrived. First George who poured himself a glass of Firewhiskey before even hugging is mother. Ginny noticed his eyes were puffy and she assumed he had been crying over Fred. She had offered to help him go through their flat but George insisted on doing it alone. The rest of the family respected his wishes.

Shortly after Percy apparated into the living room. He wore a thick wool coat and looked to have arrived straight from his work at the ministry. He was followed by Neville and Luna who did their best to stagger their arrivals but were obviously coming from the same place. Ginny and Hermione exchanged glances when they noticed Luna's exceptionally tangled hair.

"Ginny dear," George handed her his empty glass, "fill me up?"

"Honestly George," his mother protested. "We haven't even had dinner yet."

But she didn't stop him either. She knew George had taken to something stronger than butterbeer since losing his brother. She wished more than anything that he would return to The Burrow. It didn't do him any good staying in that empty flat by himself. Memories of Fred haunted the place. But what she didn't know was that memories of Fred haunted George wherever he went. He couldn't look in the mirror without being reminded of his best friend.

"Arthur!" Molly jumped up when she saw her husband.

"Sorry I'm late," he replied. "The ministry is still recovering. We have twice as much work to do and only half as many able bodies. But I've brought a friend."

"Good evening Molly," Kingsley Shacklebolt flashed her a smile. "I hope you don't mind me interrupting your dinner."

"Oh never," she gushed. "It's always a pleasure."

With their party complete, Arthur and Shacklebolt took their seats. Molly served them eagerly and the group got to chatting. For the first time in years Percy and his brothers got on swimmingly. He was still the butt of all of George's jokes, but he secretly enjoyed feeling like part of the family again. Most of all, he missed his mother's cooking.

Opposite the table, Ron and Hermione swapped longing glances. After enduring a massive threat to their lives, they had become inseparable. Hermione became interested in Quidditch and Ron even took to reading for fun. They didn't care anymore as long as they were together. But their love induced stupor was quickly interrupted when Shacklebolt cleared his throat.

"I have to admit," he told the table, "I had ulterior motives for accepting Arthur's invitation tonight. As you know, we are trying to restore the ministry, and as such I have a proposition for you."

"Me?" Harry asked.

"All of you," the minister gestured toward the entire end of the table. "I know you're all planning to return to Hogwarts in the Fall, but I don't believe that will be necessary. It's rare to see wizards and witches of your ages using magic of such high caliber. I want to extend an offer to work in the auror department."

"But what about our NEWTs?" Hermione asked.

"I think you've proven yourself a competent witch Miss Granger," he replied. "Of course, Hogwarts is always there. I am simply offering an alternative. You have a few days to decide. I'll expect your owls next Friday."

"Thank you," Harry told him. "It would be an honor."

"I should be going," Kingsley shook Harry's had. He tipped his hat to Molly. "Thanks for dinner."

Molly flashed him a smile and the rest of the table watched him leave. The last trace of him was just a quiet pop. The rest of the table slowly stood up and cleared the dishes. Percy excused himself claiming he needed to be up early for work. After his seventh glass of Firewhiskey, George slipped out as well, but not before Molly made him take the Floo Network instead of apparating in his state.

Once the kitchen was clean, they all went to their respective bedrooms. Harry and Ron had moved into Fred and George's old room. It didn't make sense to stay up in the attic all the time. As usual, Ginny shared her room with Hermione. They all tried as much as possible to be closer. After everything that had happened, they couldn't bear to lose each other.


	2. 11 June 1998

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George comes across a peculiar gift Fred left him. The result of which allows him to reconnect with an old friend.

It was nearly noon before George woke up. Very little light creeped through the closed shutters in the flat he used to share with his brother. Every morning he promised himself he would finally open up the shop again, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, at least not today.

He looked in the cupboard for a pint glass but realized all of them were soiled and scattered around the flat. No bother, he didn't need a glass. He grabbed the last bottle of Steaming Stout from the ice box and uncorked it, taking a huge swig.

Then he turned his attention back to the flat. His first night alone there he has nearly destroyed the place. Throwing dishes and furniture until only remnants of sanity were left. Then he fell to pieces and cried for hours, maybe even days. Just thinking about it again only made him want to cry even more, but he knew it wasn't healthy. He knew, deep down, that his brother would want him to move on, open the shop again, and fill the world with laughter.

Reparo Totalum!

Once again the room returned to it's original state. Trinkets were organized and the furniture was back in working order. It almost seemed like nothing had ever happened, but it had. His brother, his best friend in the entire world, was taken from him.

"George!" he heard a tiny whisper from his brother's bedroom. It happened again. "George!"

He tiptoed toward the sound. Maybe it was all a mistake, or a dream. He stepped into the empty room. He hadn't touched a thing in there. The bed was still unmade with the imprint of his brother's body left in the mattress. Before he could fall into a dark pool of memories, he heard his name once again, coming from the cupboard. George opened the door and realized the sound was coming from an oak chest.

George pulled it down from the shelf and peeked inside. Instantly he knew exactly what was happening. After leaving Hogwarts, he and Fred knew dangerous times were ahead. It was their version of a will. They had placed instructions for the other in case one of them was killed in the war. They charmed the chest to only be discoverable if one of them died. If they both died, it was lost forever.

"What's in here?" George chuckled almost as if he was talking to his brother.

He opened the chest. Inside was the pouch that contained the galleons Harry had given them to start the joke shop. George rubbed some pixie dust off the side to reveal an inscription True death is life without laughter. He was struck by a pang of guilt. The shop needed to open again, otherwise his brother's legacy would be lost. Fred would probably come back and haunt him for that, although George almost preferred that over not having his brother at all.

He continued digging through the contents of the chest where he found a photograph from the night of the Yule Ball. It depicted Fred and Angelina sticking their tongues out and then laughing animatedly until she turned and kissed his cheek.

George remembered that night vividly. It was one of the last times he felt truly happy. Shortly afterward Diggory died and Voldemort rose to power once again. There were still happy moments but they were shrouded in fear.

The night of the Yule Ball was always a happy memory. George danced all night with the girls from Beauxbatons. He charmed them with his clever gags and they rewarded him with kisses. Fred had a good night as well. When they returned to their dormitories, Fred told him Angelina had kissed him. It was the best night of his life.

The two brothers agreed on many things, but most of all, they agreed that Angelina Johnson was the most beautiful girl in their year. George was just the tiniest bit jealous when Fred asked her to the ball, but he got more joy out of watching his little brother gasp in awe.

George took another look at the photograph and realized it hadn't been left for him. He tucked it into his coat pocket and grabbed his broomstick. George had only been there once but he remembered exactly where it was. It only took a few minutes to fly across London and he instantly recognized the red house on the hill. He landed on his broomstick and knocked on the door.

"Good evening," a tall man with dark curly hair answered the door. George instantly recognized him from the photographs.

"Mr. Johnson," he smiled. "I'm a friend of Angelina's."

"Mr. Weasley?" came the friendly reply. "From the joke shop?"

"Yes sir," George smiled weakly.

"I can't get enough of your Extendable Ears," Mr. Johnson told him. "Will you be opening up shop soon?"

"Soon," George echoed. "Still working on the dates but I'll be sure to send you some by owl. Anything for Angelina's father."

"Oh right!" he remembered the task at hand. "Angie! She's not here anymore. You can find her at St. Mungo's."

"St. Mungo's!" George gasped. "Is she alright?"

"Oh she's fine," Mr. Johnson assured him. "She's training to be a healer. Got the calling after the war. Darn good at it too, might I add."

"I've got to go!" George said animatedly.

"Of course son," Mr. Johnson replied. "And I'll be expecting the Extendable Ears!"

"You got it," George replied already on his broom.

He soared over London and landed covertly across from the abandoned building that housed the largest wizarding medical center in England. Making sure no muggles were around, he crawled in through the broken window and crossed into the reception area. He hugged his broom tightly and turned to his left where he saw Angelina studying a piece of parchment. He approached her slowly and she looked up confused.

"George!" she smiled. "What are you –"

"I have something for you," he told her.

"Yeah?" she asked. "What's that?"

"Can we talk somewhere?" he pleaded.

She looked around quickly then glanced at her watch.

"Yeah," she told him. "I guess I can get away for a bit. Fancy a cup of tea?"

"I was hoping for something stronger," he chuckled.

"Come on," she linked arms with him.

George felt as if he was sucked into a vacuum. When he was back on solid ground, they were standing in the alley behind The Leaky Cauldron. Angelina took his hand and led him inside where they found a table. Hannah Abbott, who had recently taken to working there, scurried over to take their order: two butterbeers and a firewhiskey for George.

"So," Angelina smiled, "what brings you around?"

"I didn't know you wanted to be a healer," he said ignoring her question.

"It wasn't always the plan," she replied. "I spent some time with the International Quidditch Committee right after school but then death eaters took over. I moved in with my dad and stayed quiet. After, you know, we needed more healers. It seemed like the right thing to do."

"I reckon you're good at it," he smiled. "Always mended us nicely after a brutal practice."

"Hey," she took his hand, "how are you doing, since, you know..."

George didn't even know how to respond. He knew Angelina was only asking out of courtesy. She knew better than anyone that he was a mess without his brother. After taking a swig of his firewhiskey, he remembered why he had sought her out in the first place. He picked the photograph out of his pocket and slid it across the table to her.

"I found this," he explained as she examined the image. "I thought you'd like it."

"Thank you," Angelina smiled tracing the image with her fingers.

"He told me," George said solemnly, "this was the best night of his life."

"I'm sure it was," Angelina remembered it fondly. "He swiped a bottle of Dragon Barrel Brandy from Hagrid's hut. We were pissed by night's end. McGonagall knew but she didn't let on. I'll always love her for that."

"He always said," George paused, "you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen."

"I loved him," Angelina sighed. "Not as much as you, of course. I don't think anyone ever could. But I loved him and I should have said so."

"I think you did everything right," he assured her. "Fred thought the world of you."

"Did you know," Angelina chuckled at the though, "he asked me to marry him once? Kidding, of course. He proposed with a jelly slug tied in a knot. Then he warned me he'd spike my pumpkin juice with love potion if I told him no."

"What happened?" George asked, a smile creeping across his face for the first time in weeks.

"Then Fleur's Veela cousins arrived," Angelina laughed. "He got distracted pretty quickly."

"He never told me that," George said quietly.

"Sorry," she winced. "I didn't mean to..."

"No," he said quickly. "It's nice."

"I should get back," she said finally. "They'll be wondering where I went."

"Oh right, sorry," George replied getting up.

"It's okay," she hugged him tightly. "Don't be a stranger."

George wrapped his arms around her. He inhaled her scent and was reminded of the days when they were huddled together on the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. Holding her in his arms brought him a comfort he hadn't been able to find in anyone else. A part of him wished they could stay like that forever, arms around each other in The Leaky Cauldron, but he knew he had to move on and he never would if he kept clinging to the past.


	3. 31 July 1998

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wizards and witches from far and wide arrive at The Burrow for Harry's birthday

Neville pulled a lump of knotgrass out of the ground. He picked out the bugs and handed the bunch to Ron. Harry looked on confused. He was still unsure of why they had accompanied Neville to collect plants and weeds.

"I think that's about enough," Neville said finally.

"Enough for what?" Harry asked, still confused.

"You'll see," Ron winked at him.

The three of them wandered back toward Neville's grandmother's estate. She was out for the day doing the shopping and they were all alone. Neville let them inside and got to work brewing a potion. Secretly Harry wished he were anywhere else, it was his birthday after all.

"Anyone care to tell me what's happening?" he asked aloud.

"Remember that night," Ron began, "back at The Burrow? My brothers couldn't stop laughing and mum thought they were ill."

"Yeah," Harry nodded. It had happened right after they rescued him from the Dursleys in a flying car.

"We're making that potion," Neville smirked.

"What's it for?" Harry asked.

"Helps you remember the happy times," Ron replied. "I think we could all use a little."

Harry nodded. He knew the war had been hard on everyone and he felt guilty for being the catalyst for so much death and destruction. He knew deep down, that it was for the better. The ministry was slowly returning to what it used to be. There was still the matter of tracking death eaters who still pledged their allegiance to the most powerful dark wizard who ever lived, something he and Ron were helping Shacklebolt with.

"This should be ready in a bit," Neville let them know.

He took out his wand and cast a spell to solidify the potion. Then he plopped it in his pocket and led them toward the fireplace.

"Now where are we going?" Harry asked.

"The Burrow," Ron replied. "We're going to share, of course."

Harry rolled his eyes. He could sense something was amiss. Neville was unusually quiet and Ron hated The Burrow lately. Everyone was too melancholy, but he figured maybe that's what the potion was for, helping everyone remember what it was like being happy.

Neville stepped into the green flames first followed by Ron and Harry went last. After whirling past hundreds of fireplaces, Harry found himself in the living room of the Weasleys' family home, but it wasn't exactly as he had remembered. Dozens of familiar faces filled the room and streamers were hung from every wall.

"Surprise!" they cheered when they saw him step into the room.

"Happy birthday Harry," Ron patted him on the back.

"What?" Harry looked around confused. "You all did this for me?"

"We did it for everyone," Neville told him. "Now come on, let's celebrate."

Harry smiled. He found Mrs. Weasley in the crowd and gave her a bone-crushing hug knowing she had probably slaved all morning preparing for the festivities. Then his eyes landed on Ginny. She wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a delicate kiss on his cheek. It took every ounce of strength in his body not to whisk her away upstairs.

Begrudgingly, Harry remembered his manners and separated himself from Ginny. He greeted all his friends: Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Lee Jordan, even Parvati has forgiven him since the Yule Ball. They were all there. Harry hadn't seen them since that fateful night at Hogwarts but he was pleased to see them all alive and in one piece, apart from George whose ear would always be a casualty from his last night at the Dursleys.

"Come on now," Molly cleared her throat. "Let's go out to the garden. I've made enough food for an army."

She chuckled at her little joke remembering Dumbledore's Army. They were all present and grateful to Harry for giving them the knowledge to survive the darkest night of their lives. It was bittersweet being in the presence of all their old friends. They were happy to be alive and together, but survivor's guilt still hung over all of their heads.

"Harry!" Oliver Wood cornered him once they were all outside.

"Hi," Harry smiled. "How's Puddlemore?"

"It's been great," Oliver told him. "There were some hiccups trying to put the cup together this year, but I think we'll have a good year in the fall."

"Hi babe," Katie kissed Oliver's cheek. Then she turned to Harry. "Sorry I'm late. Hope I haven't held up the festivities."

"It's just good to see you," Harry hugged her. "So, you two, when did that happen?"

"We realized life's too short," Oliver explained.

"As long as we're not on the same team," she smirked, "we do just fine."

Harry smiled. It made him happy to see everyone gathered together in the garden at The Burrow. If they couldn't be with their fallen loved ones, they could relish the days when everyone spend time with those who were alive. All of them were quickly starting to realize the same as Katie and Oliver: Life's too short.

"Katie!" Angelina came running across the field with her broom in hand. She hugged her best friend tightly.

"Angie!" Katie squeezed the life out of the raven-haired girl. "Where's Alicia?"

"Sorry Harry," Angelina turned to him. "She couldn't make it."

"That's alright," Harry told her. "I'm just glad you're here."

"Hey," she looked around, "have you seen George? Says he's got a package for my dad."

"Check inside," Harry told her. "He was in the kitchen last I saw."

Angelina kissed his cheek and thanked him before heading into the kitchen. She found a lopsided cake with seven layers on the long dining table. Next to it, gifts were stacked up until they reached the ceiling.

"George?" she called out.

There was no answer. She tiptoed into the living room and again found no trace of life. Slowly, she stepped upstairs and paused on the second floor landing. She peeked into the bedroom George had once shared with Fred. Then she saw him sitting cross-legged on the floor, a glass of murky purple liquid in his hand.

"May I?" she asked taking a step inside.

"Angie?" he looked up. "Sit."

"You're not at the party," she told him.

"Couldn't face them," George took a swig, nearly emptying his glass. "Half of them are expecting me to make them laugh and the other half look at me with this face, just dripping with sympathy. I can't take it."

"Shutting yourself up isn't going to help," she told him.

"You don't know what it's like!" he shouted throwing his glass across the room. It shattered into pieces leaving shards of glass littered on the bed.

"You're right," she rested her hand on his, squeezing tight. "I don't know. None of us knows."

They were both quiet for a while. The happy sounds of laughter filled the air, only making George feel worse. He rubbed his temple and buried his head in his hand. Angelina did the only thing she could think of to help. She just sat there silently holding his hand.

"Thank you," he turned to her finally.

"Come on," she helped him to his feet. "Let's get you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry," he replied.

He stumbled into her arms. The bitter liquid he had consumed rising to his head and meddling with his senses. He hated the feeling, but it was the only thing that helped him forget. He loved her for not judging him, not making him put down the drink. She just helped him steady himself without giving him one of those pathetic looks of sympathy.

It was probably the potion, or maybe he just needed to feel the warm touch of someone who loved him. George didn't really care why, but he cupped her chin in his hand and pulled her close by sliding a hand around her waist. Their faces nearly touching. She could feel his hot breath on her cheek but she didn't pull away.

Finally, George brought his lips to hers. For a second, he forgot everything. He pressed her against the wall and deepened the kiss. Their tongues smashed together as their hearts beat faster and faster. Then she pushed him away and took in a deep breath.

"We can't do this," she said.

"Right, sorry," he shook his head. "I...I'm just not in the right state."

"It's okay," she replied. "We just can't...not like this."

She left the room and George stood there not knowing what to do next. He didn't know how to live without Fred. He didn't know how to be just himself.


	4. 5 August 1998

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron has a devious plan to try and reunite the Grangers

Ron started the motor of the silver sedan. Harry was in the passenger seat fiddling with the controls. Slowly the car hovered a bit over the ground before turning in visible. Ron gunned the engine and it soared into the air at an alarming speed. By the time Ron managed to slow it down, they were already over Belgium.

"Wicked!" Ron laughed.

"You think it'll work?" Harry asked. "We've only ever taken it as far as Russia."

"It has to," Ron replied. "It's her only chance. We can't apparate across state lines and the floo network will take forever if we don't have a specific destination."

"Good luck convincing her," Harry laughed.

"Shove off," Ron replied as they landed back on the ground. "I don't want you around when I do it."

Harry laughed. He opened the car door and stepped out leaving Ron to ponder his thoughts. Ron cut the engine and tried to muster up the courage to ask out the girl he had been in love with since he first saw her on the Hogwarts Express. He got out of the car and checked the boot to make sure both trunks were in there. Then he took a deep breath and stepped into the kitchen.

"Hermione?!" he called out.

"In here!" he heard her reply.

He walked into the scullery where he saw her searching through various baskets.

"Have you seen my blue blouse?" she asked. "It's missing. In fact, loads of my clothes are missing."

"I have them," he explained.

"What are you doing with them?" she scoffed. "Are you stealing my knickers?"

"No," he laughed. "I asked Ginny to do it."

She gave him a horrified look.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "Let me explain."

Ron took her hand and led her outside to where the car was hidden in the orchard.

"I think I owe you something," he explained. "After...er...everything, I never told you...that I...er...love you."

"You what?" she laughed.

"I love you Hermione," he sighed. "Alright, I said it. I love you!"

She smiled and grabbed his hand, pulling him close.

"I love you Ron Weasley," she giggled.

A smile stretched across his face. He leaned down and kissed her lips delicately. Hermione latched her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. She would never forget the day she realized she loved him. Ron was perfect for her.

"Wait, that's not it," he pulled away. "I realized I've never taken you on a proper date."

"Okay," she smiled. "What' the plan?"

"We're going on a trip," he explained as they reached the car.

"In this?" she asked confused.

"Just get in," he replied. "I've already packed your things."

Still skeptical, Hermione crawled into the front seat. Ron started the car and set off the invisibility booster. Once they were in the air, he steered the car in the right direction and set it to drive automatically.

"So," Hermione leaned back in the passenger seat, "where's the big date happening."

"Before I tell you," Ron explained, "I can't make any promises."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"I know you wanted to wait until you were certain," he continued, "but I want to do this with you."

"What are you saying?" she was still confused.

"We're going to Australia," he explained. "I want to help you find your parents."

"Ron, I told you – " she was furious and he knew it.

"Sorry," he protested, "but I couldn't wait any longer."

"Why are you in such a hurry?" she protested. "Why couldn't you let me do this on my own."

"Because I need to find your dad," Ron said at last. "Otherwise how will I ask his permission to marry you?"

"Oh Ron!" she melted. "You want to marry me?"

"Of course I do," he laughed, but then quickly put on a serious face. "Wait, do you want to marry me?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "I do."

Hermione scooted across the bench and kissed his cheek. Then she rested her head on his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around her. She couldn't imagine anywhere else she would rather be.

"So," she sighed, "how much longer until we're in Australia?"

"A few hours," Ron explained. "It's as fast I could charm this muggle contraption."

"It's faster than an airplane," she replied.

"An...err...what?" he asked.

"It's a flying muggle thing," she explained.

"Oh right," Ron replied. "Of course."

"What's the plan?" she asked. "When we get there? How do we find my parents?"

"I thought you would know," he replied. "You hexxed them."

"Australia is a huge country," Hermione replied. "I should have been more specific but I wasn't even thinking then."

"It's okay," Ron took her hand. "We'll find them."

She hoped he was right. For the first time in her life, she didn't really have a plan. If she was truly honest with herself, she knew that she hadn't expected to even see her parents again. She was completely ready to fight to the death in order to defeat Voldemort. Her only thought at the time was to protect her parents.

*

When Hermione opened her eyes again, Ron was landing the car in an open field. He parked, this time not crashing into an enchanted tree, and then stopped the car.

"Hermione," he nudged her. "We're here."

She muttered something incoherent and he decided it was probably best to let her sleep. He grabbed the tent Perkins had given his father and set it up with a simple spell. He stepped inside to make sure everything was in order and then went back out to the car to fetch Hermione. She was still incoherent so he picked her up gently and took her inside before laying her down on the bed.

"Where are we?" she asked waiting up.

"The outback," he explained. "We can start searching in the morning."

"We're staying here?" she sat up. "Just us?"

"Who else?" he was confused.

"Ron," she was suddenly awake, "you know we aren't...er...you know?"

"I know," he assured her. "You want to wait."

"I hope that's not the only reason you want to get married," she started to put together the pieces.

"No," he kissed her hand. "I love you Hermione. I want to marry you, even if you make me wait forever."

"Okay," she smiled. "It's just really important to me."

"I understand," he did his best not to look disappointed. "That's why I set up separate beds."

She kissed his cheek. Ron put up with a lot from her but she put up with just as much from him. They were kind of perfect for each other. Now all they had to do was find her parents.


	5. 1 September 1998

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Hermione and Ginny to head back to Hogwarts for their final year, but will Harry and Ron be able to let go?

Harry was falling into a deep sleep when he felt someone nudge him awake. He opened his eyes and found Ginny huddled over him. Her scarlet hair hanging over his face.

“Gin?” he breathed. “It's nearly morning. What's wrong?”

“Shh,” she smiled. “Nothing's wrong.”

She threw the covers aside and crawled in next to him. Harry couldn't complain but he was terrified of waking up the other Weasleys.

“Erm...” he stuttered, “what are you...you'll wake up the whole house.”

“I charmed the room,” she replied. “No one will hear a thing.”

“And Ron?” Harry nodded toward the bed next to him.

“I spiked his pumpkin juice with Sleeping Drought,” she explained. “Won't be up until morning.”

She pressed her lips to his, leaving a trail of soft kisses along his jawline, down toward his chest. Against his better judgment, Harry slid his hand around her waist and pulled her close. Then he heard Ron snore loudly.

“No,” he pulled away from Ginny. “We can't. Not like this.”

“It's our last chance,” she told him. “I'll be on the train back to Hogwarts in four hours.”

“You need your sleep,” he reminded her.

“I'll sleep here,” she told him.

“But you leave before Ron wakes up,” he warned her. “He'll kill me if he catches us.”

“Okay,” she kissed his cheek. “I'll be out before sunrise.”

“Sunrise?” he laughed. “That's in a few minutes.”

“Let's go,” she breathed.

Ginny rolled out of bed and grabbed Harry's jumper from the bed post. She slipped it on over her head and took his hand.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Sunrise,” she whispered. 

Slowly they tiptoed out of the bedroom and onto the second floor landing. Ginny led him down the stairs and outside to the shed where the broomsticks were kept. She grabbed the Cleansweep she had inherited from one of her older brothers and hopped on, silently commanding Harry to grab one as well. 

Flying by moonlight, she led him to the roof of The Burrow where they landed gently on a flat edge near the chimney. Ginny sat on the roof with her legs dangling off the side of the house. Harry did the same and they both put their brooms aside as the sun peeked over the horizon.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” Ginny smiled.

“Yeah,” he breathed as warm tones filled the sky.

Ginny shivered in the cold morning air and Harry wrapped an arm around her to keep her warm.

“I have to tell you something,” she said slowly.

“What's that?” Harry asked.

“I don't think we should see each other anymore,” she replied.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“It was a great summer,” she took his hand, “but I'm going back to school and...”

“If you think I'll lose interest,” he told her, “I won't. I want to be with you Ginny.”

“It's not that,” she explained. “I trust you.”

“Then what is it?” he asked incredulous.

“It's Rita Skeeter,” Ginny explained. “She keeps writing these articles about me...about us. She just keeps saying that I'm using you for the fame.”

“Don't pay attention to her,” Harry sighed. “She's a liar, always has been.”

“I know,” Ginny swallowed hard, “but there's some truth to it, you know. I've been in love with Harry Potter since I was five years old and I heard stories of the boy who lived.”

“I thought you'd know by now,” he said, his words dripping with disdain. “I'm not a caricature in The Daily Prophet. I'm Harry. Just Harry.”

“Of course you are,” she smiled. “And I love that. But I need some time to be just Ginny. Not Harry Potter's girlfriend, not that Weasley girl. Just Ginny. I need some time to be myself.”

“I think I can respect that,” he sighed.

“You'll always be a special part of my life,” she told him. “And maybe next summer we can pick up where we left off.”

“So this is goodbye?” he asked.

“Goodbye for now,” she replied.

Harry pulled her close and kissed her forehead. He had faced death square in the eye and his only thought had been of Ginny. But as much as it pained him to let her go, he knew it was the best thing for both of them. 

He had done the noble thing once before when he needed to protect her. Now it was his turn to respect her wishes and do the noble thing once again. Ginny was right, her entire life, she had lived in someone's shadow. It was time she paved her own way. 

“The rest of them will probably be up by now,” she told Harry. “We should get back.”

Harry agreed and they hopped back onto their brooms before descending onto the field below. They put the brooms away and slipped into the kitchen where Molly was already awake and making breakfast.

“Where have you two been?” she asked.

“Took the broomsticks out for one last ride,” Ginny explained.

“Well get your trunk ready,” Molly told her. “I reckon you need to leave in an hour.”

Ginny dutifully ran to her bedroom and Harry followed to help her pack. Hermione was trying to jinx her trunk closed when they walked in the door.

“Oh, I'll just,” Hermione picked up her trunk and bolted from the bedroom.

“What's gotten into her?” Harry asked.

“Trying to give us space, I guess,” Ginny replied. “So, I don't think you should come to the station.”

“But I already told Shacklebolt I'd be in late,” Harry said.

“Then go in early,” she told him. “I just think it would be too hard to say goodbye.”

“Alright,” he kissed her cheek, “then I better go get ready.”

“Bye Harry,” she sighed.

Harry ran out of the room, presumably saying his goodbyes to Hermione as well, while Ginny finished packing. She loaded all of her robes and school supplies in the dingy trunk and then carried it out back where the car was parked.

Then she sat at the table where Molly quickly fixed her a plate of sausages and toast. Ginny ate very little, still wondering if she made the best decision to put some space between herself and Harry. Ultimately, she knew he had his work cut out for him in the auror department and she needed to focus on her studies. They could both benefit.

“Alright,” Ron cleared the dishes from the table. “We best be going.”

Hermione and Ginny followed him out to the enchanted car and got in while Arthur took the driver's seat. Giddily, he boosted the invisible car into the air and landed it back on a muggle side street once they had reached London. He turned off the invisibility charm and pulled out onto the street.

“This new car, Ron,” he told his son, “it drives like a dream.”

“Glad you like it Dad,” Ron replied. “Dean helped me pick it out. Bit of a car lover, he is.”

“Well tell him he's done a fantastic job,” Arthur smiled as he pulled into the train station. “And you too Ron! I didn't even think of all these charms. Sensor charm? Brilliant!”

“Thanks Dad!” Ron beamed. 

“Okay now,” Arthur cut the engine. “Let's get those trunks out.”

Ron and Arthur helped the girls with their baggage and loaded them on trolleys before making their way to the familiar platform. Arthur hugged his daughter goodbye and saw her off on the train. Hermione and Ron stayed back a little. 

“I'll miss you,” she said as the red train steamed behind her.

“I'm sorry,” he told her. “But I'll keep trying.”

“It's my own fault,” she explained. “I should have put an expiry on the charm.”

“We'll find them,” Ron assured her. “I'll keep looking when I have time off from the Ministry. Maybe I'll have them back by Christmas.”

“Thank you,” Hermione kissed him. 

Ron held her tightly in his arms. He knew Hermione had an unwavering dedication to her studies but he wanted her to stay more than anything. They finally had a life for themselves. No more chasing after Harry trying to defeat the most powerful dark wizard who ever existed. They could just be themselves, go where they wanted, but now it would be another year before they even had a chance.

He took it as a challenge. He had until the end of her school year to become everything Hermione deserved. He would move out of The Burrow finally and get them a house. Then he'd work at the ministry to become a wizard worthy of a Chocolate Frog card. But most importantly, he would find her parents.

“I've got to go,” Hermione said when the final whistle blew.

“I know,” Ron kissed her.

Neither wanted to let go, but the naughty cheers for passersby was enough to remind him that Hermione needed to be somewhere. Finally, she pulled away and Ron helped her onto the train with her trunk. She blew him a kiss goodbye as he stood on the platform, waving until he could no longer see her.


	6. 24 October 1998

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a newly appointed auror, Harry seeks his independence and purchases a new house: The Stag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're six chapters in so I guess I owe you guys an author's note. I hope you've liked it so far. I promise better chapters are around the corner. There will be some Luna and Fleur chapters, plus some background on Audrey and Astoria. If you have any requests for future one-shots, let me know! I am happy to accommodate if it suits the story.

Harry's vault at Gringotts was considerably lighter when he left the bank but he knew that money was headed toward the first home he could ever truly call his own. But that's not to say he was penniless. With the inheritance his parents left him couples with the money Sirius bequeathed and the sale of 12 Grimmauld Place, he had more than enough to live on for the rest of his life, and that was without his salary from the ministry.

After settling the payment, Harry hurried out of Diagon Alley and walked the few blocks toward the house he had bought in a muggle part of London. It was a five story home located at the edge of a park. Harry knew it was a bit extravagant considering he had grown up in a cupboard. But he wouldn't be living there on his own.

"Oi!" Neville was walking toward him. "Harry!"

"Neville!" he enveloped his friend in a hug. "Ron will be waiting for us inside."

They stepped inside the house and took the narrow staircase to the first floor. Neville's mouth fell wide open when he saw the size of the drawing room.

"Harry," he gasped. "This place is enormous. I reckon it's nearly as big as Hogwarts."

"That's an exaggeration," Harry laughed. "But we will be quite comfortable."

"I just got lost finding the loo," Ron said coming down the steps. "This place is enormous."

"Yeah, it's big," Harry shrugged. "It will look smaller when we get furniture and we'll make use of the space."

"Oh, I'm not complaining," Ron replied. "I used to live in an attic."

"I'll take the attic," Neville piped up. "Closer to the roof. I can watch my plants grow."

The three of them explored the rest of the maisonette. A modest kitchen could be reached on the first floor landing. Off of that was a drawing room that commanded an entire floor. Harry assured them the fireplace had already been connected to the floo network.

Two bedrooms were on the second level. Ron moved his trunks into the larger one and Neville settled on the room opposite his after seeing the pitiful size of the attic bedroom. Above that Harry's bedroom took up an entire level, nearly half of it occupied by a bath tub large enough for a giant. Harry worried if Rita Skeeter got hold of that news, the bachelor playboy articles would never end.

The top floor had two more bedrooms of equal size, each with their own en suite. Harry wasn't sure yet how they would come in handy, but he expected they would quickly be filled considering the amount of wizards who were quickly moving to London due to positions opening in the ministry. At the top of the house was a tiny attic, more of a storage space than anything but with lots of light. Harry thought it might make a good owlery. When they were done handling the bedroom situation, they popped down to The Leaky Cauldron.

"Harry," Ron said, food hanging out of his mouth, "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but what are you planning on doing with all those empty rooms?"

"One's for Teddy," Harry replied. "The other can serve a spare room. Maybe Hermione will move in after school."

"Are you having a laugh?" Ron asked. "Is this because you know she won't..."

"Won't what?" Neville asked. Harry shot Ron a look of caution.

"She won't..." Ron lowered his voice. "She's saving herself."

"Saving herself for what?" Neville was really daft sometimes.

"She's a virgin," Ron hissed. "We're not doing it until the wedding."

A sly smile spread across Neville's face only inspiring anger in Ron.

"What's that for?" he snapped.

"Sorry," Neville shook his head. "I just...I always thought you two had already done it. You know, traveling the country looking for horcruxes."

"I was there too, mind you," Harry reminded his friend.

"Oh come on," Ron groaned. "As if you two are..."

He stopped short when he realized both of them had smug looks on their faces. A gnawing feeling sat in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh no," Ron gave Harry a pleading look, "not with my sister."

"Not anymore," Harry looked down. "We broke things off."

"Why?" Ron roared. "So she can do it with other guys at Hogwarts?"

"No," Harry replied. "There's more to her than that and that's all I will say on the subject."

Thankfully they're uncomfortable conversation was derailed when Katie Bell stepped into the pub accompanied by her friend Leanne who Harry recognized from the DA meetings.

"Harry!" Katie ran over.

He stood up and gave her a warm hug.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Just a little shopping," she replied. "You all know Leanne right?"

"Er yeah," Harry flashed her a smile.

"We'll be working together," she told Harry. "Shacklebolt's brought me on as well."

"Fantastic," Harry forced a smile.

"I have to thank you," she sidled up next to Harry while Katie squeezed into the both across from them. "Without the DA I would never have been prepared for this job. In fact, I probably wouldn't even be alive after the war."

"Happy to hear it," he told her as she accidentally rested her hand on his leg.

"Well, we should get going!" Katie stood up.

"Wait!" Harry said quickly. "You should come over and see my new flat."

"You got a new flat?" Katie laughed. "Wicked! Where is it?"

"A few blocks away," he explained. "It's in muggle London."

It took little convincing but soon they had paid their check and the five of them were headed to Harry's new home a few blocks away. He unlocked the front door and led them through the modest passageway before entering the lavish home he had only acquired that morning.

"It's still empty," Harry warned them. "Still sorting the furniture, you know."

"I think you were being humble when you called it a flat," Leanne explored the home. "This is marvelous."

"Can I get you something?" Harry asked. "We don't have furniture but we do have butterbeer."

"Hey," Katie chimed in. "I was supposed to meet Oliver. Do you mind if he comes 'round here?"

"Er sure," Harry replied.

"Are you on the floo?" she asked.

"Yeah," he paused. "Tell him he needs to get to 'The Stag.'"

Katie thanked him and headed toward the fireplace. His flat mates had gone to the kitchen in search of the butterbeer leaving Leanne alone with Harry.

"So," she pressed her hands together. "The Stag? Is that you?"

"My patronus, yeah," he replied.

"Mind showing us around?" she asked.

Harry obliged and gave her a quick tour of the house ending up in the dark attic. As they were leaving, Leanne stopped short on the landing and quickly turned around. Harry was taken aback by being so close to her. There was a pause before either of them said or did anything. And then she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Harry pulled away in shock.

"Er sorry," Leanne breathed. "I shouldn't have done that. Your girlfriend..."

"No, it's okay," he said quickly. "I don't have a girlfriend. Not anymore."

"Still, I shouldn't have..."

Harry cut her off. This time he kissed her.


	7. 20 November 1998

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and his friends have now settled into life at The Stag and Ron is tasked with his first secret auror mission

Two weeks prior, that room contained nothing but an oak trunk and a small table boasting a tattered copy of Phyllida Spore's One Thousand Magical Hebrs and Fungi. But the room had slowly come into it's own. The first thing Neville purchased was a double bed. He had never had one before.

At Hogwarts slept in a single like the other students. And before that, he had a single bed at his grandmother's home. But times had change and his current circumstance called for a double as he now shared his bed with someone else.

Presumably seven years would change anyone, but seven years of studying magic, even to a pure-blood wizard, was quite fascinating. The added pressure of fighting a the most powerful dark wizard of all time definitely changed a man. Neville had done all of those things.

He had not only evolved mentally and intellectually, there had been physical changes as well. Moving the DA meetings to Hog's Head meant walking a few miles through the empty passageway every week, if not more. He had gotten taller, and couples with the additional exercise, he no longer carried a bit of extra weight around his middle. He even had Hermione repair his crooked smile. Her parents were basically muggle teeth healers.

When she was done, he looked as good as ever. He would never say it out loud, but he noticed just as many girls looking at him, as they did Harry Potter. Not that it mattered to him. The most important thing he had done in his entire life was muster up the courage to tell Luna how he felt about her.

"Hey," Luna fluttered her eyes open and rested her hand on Neville's bare chest.

"Morning," he smiled running his fingers through her long wavy locks.

"You smell like gorfenkle," she told him. "Have you been in the Forbidden Forest?"

"Not since last week," he told her. "But I did bring back some seeds to plant."

"It's okay," she smiled. "I like it. Smells...musky."

"Come here," he tilted her head toward his and kissed her gently.

"I like waking up here," she told him.

"I like waking up with you here," he replied. "In fact, I was thinking..."

"I love it when you think," she kissed his cheek.

"I'm thinking," he took a deep breath, "maybe you could live here. With me."

"What would Harry say?" she mused.

"I already asked him," Neville replied. "He said he would love it. The house is too small for the three of us anyhow."

"That would be nice," she told him. "I think I would like it here."

"How about we get up, then?" he smiled. "Get some breakfast."

"Or," she batted her eyelashes, "we could stay here a little longer."

"Oh," Neville breathed as she traveled back under the covers. "Oh, oh..."

Ron stood in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. He desperately wanted to cast an instant heating spell but Hermione had gotten him accustomed to doing things the muggle way, something Harry enforced since they were now living in muggle London and had to keep up appearances.

"They're at it again?" Harry asked stepping into the kitchen.

He was referring to the sound of the headboard knocking against the wall in the occupied bedroom above the kitchen. Ron nodded.

"As if you're any better," Ron shot him a look. "Come now, where is she?"

"Morning!" Leanne smiled cheerfully

She had come around the corner wearing a button down that Ron recognized from Harry's wardrobe. Ron rolled his eyes when he saw Leanne plant a sloppy wet kiss on Harry's face. The latter seemed to enjoy it but pulled away quickly out of respect for his friend.

"Alright," Ron groaned. "I'm off to work."

Harry and Leanne were snogging again, too enthralled in their own actions to even notice Ron. He didn't bother with the muggle kettle. He took a cup from the cupboard and filled it with water from the tap which he transfigured into tea. Spending another second in that house with two sickeningly sweet couples made him ill. Moreover he was reminded of Hermione away at school in Scotland. In fact, he had half a mind to apparate into Hogsmeade and take one of the secret passageways into Hogwarts to surprise her.

But his auror training awaited, and instead he walked the few blocks toward the public toilets which served as a covert entry into the ministry. Even though Thicknesse had been removed as minister, the toilets were still the only way into the ministry. They created additional security until Shacklebolt could conduct a thorough investigation. He hoped to reconnect the ministry to private homes of employees by the end of next year.

It was relatively empty this early. Ron had beat the crowd trying to get away from the madness in his home and only a few stray employees wandered the cavernous hallways.

"You're in early!" Ron came across his brother Percy as they both headed into the lift.

"Well, good morning to you too," Ron scoffed.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Percy chuckled. Things between them were still tense but warming up. "It's good to see you."

"You too," Ron replied. "Will you be at mum's for Christmas?"

"Er yeah," Percy said. "Looking forward to it."

"Good, good," Ron nodded as the lift came to a stop.

"This is me," Percy stepped out.

Ron watched him leave and took the lift down to his own floor where Shacklebolt was waiting at his desk.

"Morning Minister!" Ron removed his hat.

"I'm glad I caught you in early," Kingsley told him. "I have a special assignment and I think you would be best for it."

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"We need additional security at Hogwarts," Kingsley continued. "I know you're only in training but we are short staffed. McGonagall will fill you in when you arrive."

"Thank you Sir!" Ron shook his hand.

He gathered his things and hurried toward the lobby where he took the first fireplace to McGonagall's office at Hogwarts. The room was warm and inviting when he arrived but there was no sign of life.

"Hello?" he called out. "Professor?"

"Oh Mr. Weasley!" she seemed to appear out of a cupboard. "Wonderful!"

"Hi Professor," he smiled at her.

"I should thank Kingsley for the speedy delivery," she smirked, "but I'll assume there were other incentives for taking the job immediately."

"How can I help?" he asked.

"In our efforts to repair the castle," she explained, "some of our more creative entry ways were damaged. I will need you to repair and secure them properly with a protection charm until they can be reopened."

"Er sure," he replied. "I can do that."

"I think this might be of service," she handed him a yellowed parchment which he recognized as the Marauder's Map. "Mr. Potter sent it ahead. Said you would know how to use it."

"I...er...yeah, thanks," he muttered looking over the object in his hand.

He was careful not to activate it, unsure of how much the headmistress knew of the map. Not that it mattered, he was unlikely to be punished for wandering the grounds as a student. But McGonagall always instilled a bit of fear in him despite how close they had grown over the years, especially during the last battle. He imagined she was well aware of her effect on former pupils.

"Oh, Miss Granger," McGonagall smiled at the sight of her.

Ron looked up in shock. He had expected to see her there but assumed he would have to finish his assignment before searching for her. Hermione was blissfully unaware of Ron's presence as she smoothed out her skirt, unaware of why the headmistress had summoned her.

"Hermione!" Ron breathed finally coming to his sense.

"Ron!" her face lit up.

She sprinted across the room and hugged him. Instinctively Ron cupped her face in his hand and kissed her deeply. For a second they both forgot where they were. Finally, McGonagall cleared her throat, prompting them to take a breath.

"Miss Granger has been given a reprieve from her classes today," McGonagall explained. "I believe you may find her skills useful, should you need additional help."

Ron could have sworn he saw the headmistress wink at him. Hermione thanked her earnestly and the two were ushered out of the office. When they were back out in the hallway, Ron dragged Hermione toward an empty corridor.

"I've missed you," he breathed.

"Me too," she smiled.

There was no one wandering the halls as class was in session, but Ron wouldn't have cared regardless. He kissed Hermione again throwing caution to the wind as he lifted her into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist, and pressed her tightly against the wall.

"Wait, stop," she said finally. "We have work to do."

"Oh, right," he smirked. "Come on."

He laced his finger in between hers and led her down toward the statue of Gunhilda of Gorsemoor. She rested her head on his shoulder, and even though he couldn't see her face, he was certain she was smiling.


	8. 27 December 1998

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angelina surprises the Weasleys with five tickets to the Cannons vs Harpies game but it's not all fun and games when Ginny is bit by the green-eyed monster

George paced the living room in The Stag. With the shop open once again, he was slowly readjusting to life in the real world. He no longer backed away when invited to social events, as was the case when Angelina handed him five tickets to the Harpies match against the Chudley Cannons.

Since finishing her training as a healer, Angelina had acquired a position as the assistant healer for the Holyhead Harpies. Her new job mainly consisted of healing bludger injuries but she enjoyed it more than St. Mungo's. Plus George benefitted from free tickets to matches every so often.

"Oi!" he called out to his siblings. "We're gonna miss the portkey."

"Coming!" Ron yelled as he came running down the stairs in a set of bright orange robes.

"You can't wear that," George shook his head. "We're sitting with the Harpies."

"Fine," with a flick of the wrist, Ron had transfigured his robes so they were blue instead. "But I'm not supporting them."

"Fine," George hollered. "Come on now! Let's go!"

Ginny, who was home for the holidays, came running down the stairs, followed by Harry and Leanne. George handed them each a ticket and within a few seconds they felt the familiar sensation of being pulled by the navel. The tickets transported them to the Quidditch pitch in Holyhead where green and yellow flags soared above the pitch.

"We're here!" George smiled.

He led them into the stadium and they took their seats in the stands. Angelina pointed her wand in the air shooting green and yellow sparks in their direction. George looked down and waved eagerly. In front of him Leanne had practically sidled into Harry's lap, much to Ginny's chagrin. George could practically feel Ginny's blood boiling next to him. On his other side, Ron was completely oblivious to his sister's jealousy, as he watched the Cannons mount their brooms.

"Hey," George kicked Harry, who was snogging Leanne, in the back of the head. "It's starting."

The five of them, well four since Leanne seemed to be uninterested in the match, looked on eagerly as the snitch was set free. Ron clutched his brother's arm anytime it looked like the Harpies might have an advantage, which was most of the match. Meanwhile, George did his best to mediate between Harry and Ginny and keep Leanne from losing an apendage.

Nearly eight hours later, Galvin Gudgeon finally caught the snitch but the Cannons still suffered an upsetting loss of 430 to 180 points. Ron hung his head in defeat as they filed out of the stands and met Angelina on the landing.

"Come on," she took Ginny's hand. "I've got a surprise for you."

"Go," George said when he saw the apprehension in her eyes. "We'll be at The Stag. Join us for dinner?"

"Yeah," she smiled and followed her old Quidditch captain toward the playhouse.

"Alright," Angelina warned her, "don't lose your head."

"When have I ever lost my head?" Ginny asked.

"That's my girl," Angelina smiled.

The two wandered into the training area where Harpies players were in various states of undress as they changed out of their Quidditch robes. Ginny felt her jaw drop in awe as she recognized Gwenog Jones, Valmai Morgan and the other players that had graced the walls of her bedroom.

"This is your job?" Ginny clutched Angelina's hand.

"Believe me," Angelina laughed, "it's hard work."

Angelina finished the tour and then headed into her office, which was mostly an exam room. A couple of girls were lined up outside waiting for their injuries to be healed. Ginny waited patiently outside, trying hard not to blush whenever a player flashed a smile her way. Within a few minutes, Angelina was finished and free to spend her evening as she liked.

"So," Ginny asked her, "will you come with me to dinner? I don't think I can handle Harry and his new girlfriend alone."

"Potter?" Angelina scoffed. "He'll come around."

"But in the meantime," Ginny groaned.

"Yeah," Angelina replied. "I could use a proper meal."

The two apparated back to the stag where they found Ron in the kitchen wearing an apron Molly had gifted to him for Christmas, just a few days prior. She had been so thrilled with his interest in cooking during the summer he stayed at The Burrow. In fact, everyone was impressed. Even Ginny had to admit Ron was a decent cook. Besides, it gave her a way out of Molly's surprise cooking lessons. One day her mother would understand she preferred a broomstick to a skillet.

"Hey Gin," Angelina nudged her, "have you thought of what you'll do after school?"

"Probably get a job in the ministry," she replied. "It's Weasley tradition by now."

"Look," Angelina took her aside, "I'm not supposed to know this, and I definitely shouldn't share it with you, but there's a spot opening on the Harpies. One of our Chasers is moving to Puddlemore at the end of this season. The ink on the parchment is still wet but they should be announcing it in the new year."

"Who?" Ginny wanted to know.

"I can't say," Angelina replied. "I've already told you too much."

"Are you saying I have a chance?" Ginny asked.

"More than a chance," Angelina replied. "I told our manager and she'll be attending a few of your matches at Hogwarts. You're definitely at the top of her list."

"Are you serious?" Ginny squealed. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have introduced myself instead of looking like an idiot."

"Trust me," Angelina smiled, "you did everything right."

"But what about you?" she asked. "Why don't you take it."

"I like my job," came the reply. "Besides, I haven't ridden a broomstick in ages. Not seriously anyway."

They were interrupted when George came around the corner, a bottle of ale in his hand.

"What are you girls squealing over?" he asked.

"It's a secret!" Angelina warned Ginny with her eyes.

"You'll know in time," Ginny smirked.

"I probably don't even care," he scoffed. "Girl stuff I'm sure."

"Yeah," Angelina winked at him, "girl stuff."

The girls laughed and Ginny hopped onto the counter while Angelina grabbed them each a beer from the ice box. She popped off the caps and handed one to Ginny before taking a sip. Ginny rolled her eyes when she saw Harry and Leanne skipping down the steps. By the look of his crooked tie and her disheveled hair, Ginny didn't even want to consider what they had been up to.

"Hey," Leanne smiled at the crowd. She turned to Ron. "Where's Hermione?"

"Australia," Ron said solemnly. "She's trying to find her parents."

"Oh," Leanne breathed.

"Uh," Angelina tried to diffuse the tension. "When's dinner?"

"It'll be ready soon," Ron groaned.

"Fantastic!" George slapped a fake smile on his face. This was going to be an eventful dinner.


	9. 23 January 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville and Luna head into Diagon Alley before she goes on a missions to find the Crumple-Horned Snorcack

With a tiny pop Luna appeared in the kitchen of The Stag. Ron and Harry were sipping tea and hardly noticed her presence until she started unpacking her canvas bags.

"I was going to make breakfast," she explained. "Care for anything?"

"Luna, I would love you forever," Ron said, "if you cooked up a frittata with cheese and tomatoes."

"Sure," she smiled. "Harry? I know you like sausages."

"I'd love some," he replied kindly, "but I'm already late to meet Leanne."

Harry downed the rest of his tea and apparated with a pop, leaving only his cup behind. Ron, eager for someone else to be cooking, grabbed some plates and silverware to help Luna. She was nearly finished when Neville sauntered down into the kitchen dressed in a pair of pajamas Luna had giften him for Christmas. The pattern featured plants from around the world. It was the best gift he had ever received.

"Dear," Luna handed Neville a plate of eggs and sausages, "you need to get dressed. We're headed into Diagon Alley."

"We're what?" he blurted out, his mouth full of food.

"Diagon Alley," she reminded him. "If I'm going to find the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, I'll need more than just a bag of apples. You said you'd come with me today."

"Right," he nodded, inhaling his breakfast.

Next to Neville, Ron snickered as he polished off his own plate. He was hesitant at first, but came around quickly to the idea of Luna moving in. After growing up with the Weasleys, he had become accustomed to a full house. Besides, Luna's cooking was quite good when she cooked for humans. By mistake, Ron had once sampled a raw meat pie meant for one of her trips to visit the thestrals.

"Well," Ron cleaned his plate, "I'm off."

He disappeared upstairs leaving Luna and Neville alone in the kitchen. She cleaned up the dishes she had used to make breakfast and he helped himself to another plate of eggs.

"Thanks Luna," he said as he helped her put the kitchen back in order.

"You can thank me by getting ready," she told him. "We have so much to do."

Neville did as he was told and ran upstairs to get ready. When he reemerged from his bedroom, Luna had finished the cleaning and was reaching for her bag.

"Ready?" he smiled.

Luna nodded and he took her hand as they sauntered out into muggle London. It was only a few blocks before they reached The Leaky Cauldron and snuck past the morning crowd of patrons who had remained from the night before. Outside in the alley behind the pub, Neville unlocked the entrance to Diagon Alley and the two were off.

As Luna gathered rare treats to feed the creatures she found, Neville was enthralled by the petrified plants in the apothecary. He had always planned on using the space on the roof to add a garden. But his auror training was so extensive, that he never had the time. Finally making up his mind to do so, he purchased a few seedlings

Hours later, Luna had finally gathered all the supplies she needed and worked up quite an appetite. Neville suggested The Leaky Cauldron to which she agreed. With his seedlings in one arm and Luna's purchases in the other, Neville led the way toward the pub where they were greeted eagerly by an old classmate.

"Neville!" Hannah Abbott led them to a table. "I heard you're training to be an auror."

"Right," he replied taking a seat. "You remember Luna?"

"Yes, Luna. Hi!" Hannah smiled at her.

"Lovely to see you," Luna smiled.

"I didn't know you worked here," Neville told her. "I thought you'd become an auror too."

"Oh no," she replied. "I've had enough dueling for one lifetime. My uncle Tom owns the place. After school, I thought I'd help him out a bit. Don't let him hear me say this but he's getting a bit old to be managing on his own."

"I like what you've done with it," Luna told her. "Far fewer bestiolas since the last time I was here."

"Bestiola?" Hannah mouthed toward Neville. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "So, what can I get you two?"

"Butterbeers," Neville replied. "That'd be great."

"In a minute," Hannah smiled before disappearing behind the bar.

"She's pleasant," Luna said quietly. "I remember her from our Dark Arts lessons."

Hannah returned a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of butterbeer and took their order. Luna sipped her drink and reached across the table to take his hand.

"Thank you for coming with me," she smiled.

"I like spending time with you," he replied. "I'll miss you while you're out chasing Umgubular Slashkilters and Gulping Plimpies."

"You'll hardly notice I'm gone," she assured him.

Neville smiled weakly. Lately, he and Luna hardly ever saw each other. Most nights she slept at her father's home or was traveling. He kept irregular hours, sometimes sleeping through the day to work at night. Living together wasn't quite the dream he had expected, although he gathered that Ron benefit from it quite often. His appetite told them as much.

When they were done eating, Neville paid the check and helped Luna with her bags. Arm in arm, they walked the few blocks back to The Stag and followed the trail of discarded scarves and jumpers to find Harry in the stairwell with Leanne. Neville cleared his throat loudly and they snuck past the couple.

"I miss Ginny," Luna said in her usual dreamy voice as she dropped her bags on Neville's bed. "I hope she and Dean are having a splendid time at Hogwarts."

Neville smirked. He was convinced everyone underestimated Luna's intelligence. Leanne, on the other hand, was not pleased with the snide insult, even if Luna had cloaked it as an off-hand comment.

"You shouldn't say things like that," Neville did his best to chastise her.

"Say things like what?" she asked confused.

Luna was too smart for him and her naivete served as an excellent deterrent to keep him off his guard.


	10. 14 February 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny convinces a lonely Hermione to spend Valentine's Day in Hogsmeade together

Ginny and Hermione walked arm in arm bundled up as they trudged through the snow. The latter was instantly regretting the decision to wander into Hogsmeade for Valentine's Day. The garlands and floating hearts served as a reminder that she was miles away from Ron in London, but Ginny insisted. She said the two of them could use each other's company. Besides, the halls at school would just be littered with first and second years trying to transfigure the statues into cupids.

"Come on," Ginny dragged her toward the Three Broomsticks.

"How about Hog's Head?" Hermione told her. "No fairies, no garlands..."

"And stale butterbeer?" Ginny scoffed. "Maybe for Halloween. Now come on!"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she followed Ginny into the warm pub. Madam Rosmerta was bumbling around the room serving the unending stream of new customers. The two girls sat down at the only empty table which was tucked under a flight of stairs. Madam Rosmerta quickly took their order of two butterbeers, one with cinnamon for Hermione, and then Ginny excused herself to use the restroom.

Left alone, Hermione looked around the room. The pub was buzzing with new couples. The war had been tough on everyone and they were all eager to fall in love and find happiness. Even she and Ron had been infected. She imagined they likely would never have admitted their feelings for each other had they not been fighting for their lives.

She had struggled in her final year at Hogwarts. The halls of the school were so foreign to her without Ron and Harry by her side. Even Luna had opted to abandon her education in favor of pursuing the rarest beasts.

Ginny was gone awhile. Hermione remembered how long the line usually was on Valentine's Day. All the girls reapplying lipstick and checking their hair to make sure they were perfect for when their beau made the first move.

During Ginny's absence, she noticed Dean Thomas walk in accompanied by Parvati Patil. Hermione knew she had gone on to work at the ministry and assumed she was in Hogsmeade just to spend the day with Dean, whose education was derailed due to his muggle-born status. They had become an item practically seconds after the fall of Voldemort. They were quite the pair, even Ginny thought so.

"Hey," Ginny snapped Hermione out of her thoughts and back to reality. "Sorry I was gone so long."

"Oh, it's no –" Hermione stopped short when she saw Ron standing next to his sister, a grin spread across his face.

"Look who I found," Ginny teased.

Hermione practically threw her aside as she jumped up to hug Ron.

"I can't believe you," she laughed.

"I had to," he replied. "Haven't seen you in weeks."

He kissed her sweetly as Ginny backed away to find her friends. When Hermione pulled away, Ron took her hand and led her up the steps.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I got a room," he told her. "We can be alone."

Her heart dropped. She hadn't anticipated that. She hadn't really anticipated Ron showing up in Hogsmeade unannounced but she thought, after the talk they had, that she had made herself clear.

"Ron," she tugged on his arm as he pulled a brass key from his pocket, "I don't think this is a good idea."

"What are you talking about?" he opened the door to a private room.

"I thought you understood," she explained. "I'm not going to..."

"Hermione," he shook his head. "I'm not trying to –"

"Why the room then?" she asked. "I don't want you pressuring me into something I'm uncomfortable with."

"Hermione," he stopped short, "believe me, I am fully aware of the fact we're not sleeping together. I just wanted a chance to talk to you, away from the love potions and singing cupids. Besides, the peppermint gives me a headache."

"So you won't try anything?" she asked.

"Of course not," he replied.

She laughed at her ability to turn the tiniest comment into a full blown issue. Ron constantly mocked her for it, but deep down he appreciated her talent for piecing clues together to find the big picture. They both knew that she had saved their lives dozens of times due to the nasty habit of looking past the surface.

"Why don't you tell me," he took a seat on the bed, "what you've been up to."

"It has literally been so dull at Hogwarts," she laughed. "All I ever do is go to classes and study the course work. No trips to the Forbidden Forest or exploring off limits corridors."

"Reminds me of our first few months at Hogwarts," he replied. "Quite dull, weren't they?"

"I remember someone battling a troll," she teased, "only months after arriving."

"That's true," he laughed. "Forget Fred and George. We were the real trouble makers."

"Hey," she took his hand, "how is he? George."

"How would you be?" he sighed. "I guess he's faring better than expected. The shop is doing well. Lee's been helping him. And Seamus too, working on explosives I think."

"That's good," Hermione smiled. "I really should have gone to The Burrow for the holidays. All I did was take a long tour through Australia and I found all the places my parents are not hiding."

"We'll find them," he assured her, "and when we do, I'll buy us all a nice house to live in together. You'll never take your eyes off them again."

"That's sweet," Hermione took his hand. "You've changed, you know."

"We've all changed," he sighed.

He was right. The war changed everyone. They no longer bickered over little things. They relished every happy moment they had. And they were stronger. They had to be.

"Sometimes I miss the old Ron," she sighed.

"Oh yeah?" he laughed. "What about him?"

"I was smarter than him, for one," she laughed. "I never have to explain anything to you anymore."

"Auror training is like a one way ticket to the library," he laughed.

"And it's going well?" she asked.

"You know I can't talk about my secret auror work," he teased.

"You don't fool me," she smirked. "Harry sent an owl last week. Shacklebolt has you debugging broomsticks for Quidditch players."

"I'll have a word with Potter when I get back," he laughed.

"Potter?" she raised an eyebrow.

"We do last names now," he explained. "It's an auror thing."

"Right," Hermione went along with it. "I probably wouldn't understand."

Then she glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Oh, I better get going," she told him. "Train leaves soon."

"Before you go," he breathed.

Ron never finished the sentence. He leaned across the bed and kissed Hermione. She smiled into the kiss and looped her arms around his neck before falling back against the pillows.

"Wait," he told her, "you have to get back."

"Do you have your broom?" she asked. He nodded. "You can take me back later."

"Oh, okay," he broke out into a smile. "We'll just...er..."

"Shut up," she said, before kissing him once again.


	11. 23 March 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Ginny gets great news about her life post Hogwarts, she is disappointed that the people she cares about most are not around to share in the excitement

During her free period Ginny sat at an empty table in the library with a book on magical plants open in front of her. She had already written three pages worth and her hand ached from gripping the quill. Next to her, Hermione was busy scribbling away and Ginny was the tiniest bit envious of the other's wits. She was ready to give up when a prefect came running up to her.

"No running in the library!" Madam Pince called out to him.

"Sorry," he turned his attention to Ginny. "McGonagall would like to see you in her office."

"Me?" Ginny asked.

"Ginevra Weasley?" the prefect replied. She nodded. "Yes, you."

Confused by the headmistress' sudden interest in her, Ginny packed up her coursework and stuffed it in her bag before leaving the library. When she finally approached McGonagall's office, she heard voices chatting inside.

"Professor," Ginny smiled when she saw her. "You wanted to see me."

"Miss Weasley!" Minerva gushed. "I'd like you to meet Gwendolyn Morgan. She is the manager for the Holyhead Harpies."

"Nice to meet you," Ginny did her best not to stutter.

"Pleasure," Gwendolyn replied. "We've been watching your matches for a while now."

"Ms. Morgan," Minerva scolded her. "Let's not dally."

"Apologies," Gwendolyn said. "Ginny, what I believe the headmistress is trying to say, is that we would like to extend to you a position with the Harpies."

"Are you serious?" Ginny breathed.

"It's not a starting position, mind you," Gwendolyn explained. "We'll have you on as a replacement chaser."

"Right, of course," Ginny gushed. "Thank you so much!"

"You should thank your friend Angelina," came the reply. "She spoke quite highly of you."

"I'll be sure to do so," Ginny smiled.

They all said their goodbyes and then Gwendolyn took her leave. In her absence, Minerva let out a squeal that took Ginny by surprise.

"Oh!" she laughed. "One of my own, playing for the Harpies. What a joy! I'm sure you're bursting to write home."

"I am!" Ginny laughed, never expecting to share a secret like this with her headmistress and former head of house.

"Hurry off now," Minerva told her. "Tell your friends the good news."

"Thank you!" Ginny said before skipping back toward the library to find Hermione.

As she strolled through the empty halls, she thought about her brother Fred. Usually he and George were the first she would share good news with, especially regarding Quidditch. Ron would appreciate it but his congratulations would be thinly veiled behind jealousy. The twins believed all of her triumphs were just as much theirs.

She took a detour to the Trophy Room located on the third floor. As usualy she made her way toward the Inter-House Quidditch Trophy for the school year of 1993-1994. She didn't have to search for it. The trophy case had become very familiar in her final year at Hogwarts. The wooden plaque boasted seven brass badges adorned in a half circle. Her eyes lingered on the one inscribed with her late brother's name above the title Beater.

Ginny stood on her tiptoes to read the inscription on the brass tile. She often wished he'd had a portrait made so she could still talk to him, as she did with the portrait of Dumbledore at times. But George was only twenty years old when he died and he was still busy building his legacy, not thinking about preserving his knowledge and humor for posterity in the form of a two dimensional look alike. It suddenly occurred to her that in a few years she would have outlived him but no amount of years would change that he would always be her older brother. Tears were filling her eyes as classes let out and students slowly began to roam the halls. She wiped her face and headed in the direction of the common room.

"Hey!" Hermione caught up with her. "What was that about earlier?"

"I'm playing Quidditch next year," Ginny explained. "For the Harpies."

"That's magnificent!" Hermione hugged her tightly. "Have you told your mum yet?"

"No," Ginny remembered. "I should probably get up to the owlery tonight."

She left Hermione sitting by the fireplace and disappeared up to her room to write a letter to her mum, including a note to inform her older brothers. A second letter went to George, a third was to thank Angelina, and a fourth to Ron. She considered writing to Harry but she hadn't done so since she left for her final year at Hogwarts. Besides, Ron was sure to tell him.

It had been difficult for her to return home and find that Harry had already moved on with Leanne. Of course she didn't expect him to pine after her, and she had even encouraged him to see other people, but it was devastating to have them parade in front of her. A part of her was certain that Harry knew exactly what he was doing when he brought Leanne with him to the Quidditch match.

When she was done, Ginny hopped up the steps toward the owlery. She sent her post off and watched the owls fly south in formation. Then she went down stairs to the Great Hall where dinner was being served. Almost instantly Jimmy Peakes plopped down in the seat next to her, shoveling sausages into his mouth.

"Is it true?" he asked, spitting food everywhere.

"Is what true?" she seethed. Peakes was great on the pitch, but she preferred not talking to him.

"You're with the Harpies?" he accused her.

"Next year," she replied. "I'll be playing for the Harpies, yes."

"Scooch over," Hermione came in to save her friend.

"Thanks," Ginny sipped her pumpkin juice. "He's dreadful."

"Keep it quiet," Hermione told her. "You've still got two more months with him on the Quidditch team."

"Don't remind me," Ginny groaned.

"Come on," Hermione bit into her kidney pie. "You've just got great news! Let's not let him spoil it."

"He's not," she replied. "I guess I'm just lonely. Usually I'd be telling my brothers but none of them are here anymore."

"So this isn't about Harry?" Hermione asked. "And Leanne?"

"Maybe just a little," Ginny replied, "but it's mostly about my family. I guess I'm starting to regret returning to Hogwarts. It's not like you need to know charms to ride a broom and score goals. I could be with George now, helping him in the shops until the season starts."

"But isn't school how they saw you play?" Hermione reminded her.

"That's true," Ginny sighed, unsure of why she was suddenly overcome with grief, "but I think I'll head upstairs early."

Hermione understood the need to be alone. Their final year at Hogwarts was a difficult one, and quite lonely. Despite the triumph at the end of the war, everything was so different and it took some getting used to navigating the halls without their closest friends at their side.


	12. 1 April 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George closes up the shop as the clock strikes midnight on his first birthday without Fred but he doesn't have time to wallow in his despair when he finds a pleasant surprise waiting at the door to his flat.

It was after midnight when George locked up the till and scooped the day's earnings into a canvas satchel. He put a concealment charm on the pouch and headed toward Gringotts. The streets were deserted but he loved walking in the cold night air. As he approached the marble building, he saw a single candle flickering inside. As usual, Nodruk was waiting for him to arrive.

George tipped his hat as he entered. The sleepy guards heaved a sigh of relief knowing they would soon be heading home. This was George's routine every night. Back when Fred was alive, they would arrive during the day, each taking a turn, but now that he ran the shop alone, he was entrusted to do it all himself. Of course, he paid the guards and goblin handsomely for the luxury of entering his vault in the late hours of night. It helped that Bill and Fleur were on friendly terms with the goblins.

"Evening," he told Nodruk.

"Mr. Weasley," Nodruk smiled, as much as a goblin could smile.

George followed him into the hallway where they took a cart down to his vault #401. He and Fred had chosen it as it represented their comical birthday. Nodruk stopped the cart in front of the vault and waited for George to sort the days earnings. He stacked the coins in their respective piles leaving a galleon and a dozen sickles for himself which he pocketed before locking the vault once again. Nodruk took him back to the surface and they said their goodbyes before the goblin locked the front doors.

George glanced at his watch. It was just after midnight. He considered stopping into the Leaky Cauldron for a drink but thought better of it. He couldn't bear to be alone considering the circumstances, but spending the night with intoxicated goblins and wizards was no better. So he headed back to the shop. He grabbed his key and approached the door leading to the flat only to find a hooded figure huddled in the corner.

"Angelina?" he asked recognizing her long braided hair.

"Hi," she smiled and held up a bottle of Elderflower Wine. "Twenty-one, right?"

He winced. He was entering his third decade without Fred and he was dreading it. The next twenty-four hours only served as a haunting memory of all the ways they had spent their birthdays playing practical jokes on Peeves and taunting their brothers.

"Not tonight Angie," he sighed.

"One drink," she pleaded. "It will help you sleep. Just one and I promise I'll go."

"Alright," he shrugged letting her inside.

She followed him up the four flights of stairs until they were standing on the landing overlooking the dark joke shop. She hadn't been in since Fred was still alive. Standing in the shadows of the shop reminded her of what George must feel ever day.

"Coming?" George called out from inside the flat.

Angelina shook her head and followed him into the sparse room. George pointed his wand at the fireplace and wordlessly warmed the room with flames. Then he conjured two glasses. She uncorked the wine and poured each glass until it was full to the brim, leaving only drops in the bottle.

"One drink, aye?" George laughed.

"Just one," she winked.

"You're not good for me," he said, taking a swig.

"Hey," she nudged him, "how are you doing?"

"I wish people would stop asking me that," he replied.

"I didn't mean anything by it," she assured him. "I just haven't seen you in a minute. I want to know you're well."

"Let's talk about you," he changed the subject. "Quidditch world treating you well?"

"I wouldn't say I'm in the Quidditch world," she huffed. "I'm a healer. But I'll admit, I'd rather the pitch to being yelled at by Smethwyck."

"You should come by more," he told her. "You're off in the summers, no?"

"I am," she smiled. "Maybe I'll pop in sometime."

"I'd like that," he told her. "I could use another familiar face every once in a while."

Angelina noticed his eyes getting sleepy as he finished off his wine. She dug into her pocket and pulled out a small white box. Using her wand, she enlarged it to the correct size and opened the cardboard covering to reveal a small cake in the shape of a galleon.

"Happy birthday," she smiled.

"Is that meant to be a joke?" he chuckled.

"See," she pointed, "you're smiling."

"Maybe it will be a happy birthday after all," he replied. "I'll get the forks."

Angelina nodded and finished off her wine while George stood up and headed for the kitchen. He finally found two clean forks but when he returned to the sofa, Angelina was snoring softly. He let out a soft chuckle and lifted her up into his arms. Then he carried her into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed. He removed her shoes and covered her with the blanket before turning away.

"Hey," she reached out and tugged his jumper. "Stay with me?"

"Erm...yeah, of course," he breathed.

George kicked off his own shoes and laid down on the bed next to her, careful to stay above the covers. He magicked the lights off and quickly drifted off to sleep.

George felt the weight in the bed shift and rubbed his eyes open. He saw Angelina huddled over his bed side cabinet jotting something quickly on a piece of parchment. She put the quill down and slipped her shoes back on. She was practically in the doorway when George regained his ability to speak.

"Ange?" he whispered.

"Oh right, hey," she crouched over him. "Sorry, but I've got to go."

"Oh right," he nodded.

"Happy birthday George," she smiled.

Then she kissed his forehead and apparated out of the room with a quiet pop. George glanced at his wristwatch. It was still early. The shop wasn't due to open for a few hours. Then he leaned back against his pillow and stared at the ceiling.

"Happy birthday Fred," he sighed. "To twenty-one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has been keeping up with this story. I hope you've liked it so far. This was my favorite chapter to write because I have a soft spot for Angelina and George so I hope I did their story justice. For those of you wondering, the next chapter is the 1 year anniversary of the war.


	13. 2 May 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first anniversary of the war descends on Hogwarts and the fallen are memorialized in a beautiful ceremony

The sun shone brightly over the Hogwarts castle despite the grim memory of this day. The students, dressed in their neatest robes, filed suit into the Great Hall where a dozen guests were sitting alongside Professor McGonagall and the other staff members. When they had all taken their seats, the headmistress cleared her throat loudly.

"As many of you know," she announced, "today marks the anniversary of the night He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was slain. We have many witches and wizards to thank for his downfall. Unfortunately, quite a few of them did not survive that night. And today, we remember their accomplishments."

"I thank you for your patience during this year as we have spent a good deal of time repairing the castle. You've likely seen a few additions made to memorialize the fallen. Today we dedicate a memorial as a reminder of those who lost their lives protecting this castle. But first, some words from Harry Potter.

Harry would always consider Hogwarts his first home, but he didn't get the same sense of fascination when he walked through these haunted halls. In the eight years since he had begun his education, he had explored nearly every corridor and discovered many of the secrets the castle had to offer. He no longer ached to to know the truth, he had learned more truths in his lifetime than he could stomach. In an effort to convey his feelings about the castle and his experience at Hogwarts, he had accepted McGonagall's offer to speak today.

"I vividly remember the first time I saw Hogwarts. I was across the lake with the other first years. Hagrid loaded us into the boats," he took a moment to nod toward the large grizzly man sitting to his left. "And I had never seen something so remarkable. This place, for many of us, it's the only home we've ever come to know."

"My fate was sealed by a crystal ball. There's nothing special about me aside from the fact that the most powerful dark wizard of all time wanted me dead in order to preserve his legacy. I was fighting for my life, but I had so much help, more than I deserved really."

For a moment, his thoughts drifted toward the man who had briefly held McGonagall's place before her. Snape, despite his unhealthy obsession with Lily Evans, had made a genuine effort to protect Harry, saving his life on multiple occasions. He regretted never thanking him.

"What I'm trying to say is that everything I hope none of you every face the type of dark times that we've finally put behind us, but if you do, I know you will have the knowledge and the talent to do so, because you were educated here at Hogwarts. I am in no way more capable than anyone else in this room and I want to encourage you all to find your talents while you're at this school.

"And before I go, I want to offer my condolences to anyone who lost a loved one during the war. The lives of those who were lost trying to protect our future will always be remembered as talented and valiant soldiers but more importantly, we will remember their kind words, loving thoughts, and happy memories.

On that note, Harry tipped his hat toward the crowd and returned to his seat between Hagrid and Arthur Weasley, who gave him a comforting pat on the back. He paid little attention as Kingsley Shacklebolt took the stage and announced his plans to expand ministry employment to Hogwarts graduates.

Harry was more interested in what was happening at the table in front of him. Ginny was sitting with the rest of the Weasleys. Hermione sat next to her with her head resting on Ron's shoulder. George tapped his foot under the table while Molly held his hand. Percy was there also. Silent tears streamed from his eyes, Harry suspected he and Fred had never properly made up before his death. Then there was Bill, the scars had faded but his face was still badly mangled. He had his arm around Fleur who was weeping into his chest. Even Charlie had wrenched himself away from the dragons to attend.

He recognized many other faces in the crowd. Ministry employees and members of the DA had arrived with their families. Not to mention the family members of others like Fred who were lost that fateful night. But his attention was captivated by Ginny. The last few months without her had been horrible, but he had Leanne to think about. Rita Skeeter could probably write a book on all the women he had allegedly scorned. He just needed a way to let Leanne down easily.

Harry was deep in thought when Hagrid jerked him awake. McGonagall addressed the crowd a final time and then lifted her wand in the air. The walls in the Great Hall receded to create just over fifty alcoves. From the end of McGonagall's wand gold sparks soared into the air depicting the image of one of the fallen. Eventually each set of sparks settled into one of the alcoves before transforming into a solid statue of gold.

There had been a lengthy discussion over the decision to install a memorial at Hogwarts. Initially, paintings were considered but as many of them had died young, there were not enough images to recreate their portraits. After dozens of ideas were thrown about, they finally settled on statues. The decision to erect them in the Great Hall was made in reverence to the room serving as the heart of the school, a protector to those who survived, and a symbol of what those who lost their lives were protecting.

When the induction ceremony was over, the younger students hopped up and skipped back to their common rooms leaving the visiting adults to mingle. Harry stood up and practically ran toward where the entire Weasley family stood at the foot of Fred's statue. He was smiling, they had made sure of that. Ginny, who had always been close to him, had her head buried in Charlie's chest. It took everything in Harry not to run to her side.

"Dear," Molly hugged him tightly. "You had the kindest words to say."

"Er...thanks," he replied.

He wasn't sure he felt the same way. He was horrible with speeches unless someone's life was in peril. Kindly, he excused himself and wandered past the rest of the statues, shopping short at the foot of a golden effigy in the likeness of Colin Creevey. He even had a camera hanging around his neck.

"Harry!" he turned around to find Dennis Creevey standing behind him.

"Hey Dennis!" Harry hugged him. He was practically grown up.

"I'm surprised you're not surrounded by your usual swarm of fans," Creevey teased.

"I gave them the day off," Harry joked. He turned back toward the statue. "You should be proud of him."

"I am," Dennis felt a tear stream down his face. "Big shoes to fill."

"I'm sure you'll do great things," Harry assured him. "Maybe when you're done with Hogwarts you'll pay me a visit at the Ministry?"

"I'd like that," Dennis replied. He saw someone approaching and turned to go. "I better get back."

Harry waved and felt a hand resting on his shoulder. When he turned around he saw Hermione ready to embrace him in a warm hug.

"You were wonderful," she whispered. "Everything you said was perfect."

"Thank you," he replied.

He squeezed her tightly and took his time before letting her go. No matter what, Ron and Hermione would always be there for him, his best mates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate sappiness so hopefully I did this chapter justice. Stay tuned for the next chapter featuring the wedding of two beloved characters! As a side note, I am contemplating including an excerpt of the upcoming chapter to give you a taste of what's coming next but I'm not sure if that would ruin the pacing of the story so drop me a line if you have an opinion on the matter. Thanks for reading!


	14. 19 June 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The entirety of the Wizarding world descends upon the Wood estate for a Katie Bell's wedding to Oliver

The garden of the Wood estate was in full bloom on a warm day in July. Flowers and ivy rose up from the ground in beautiful towers of shrubbery. Hundreds of witches and wizards came out in their most expensive and luxurious robes. It was the first big wedding since the end of the war. Everyone was determined to have a fantastic time.

Harry wasn't part of the festivities, at least not yet. He was housed up in the guest bedroom with Oliver trying to prepare the groom for the most important day of his life. Well, actually Charlie was doing most of the preparing. He was best man after all, his friendship with Oliver leading back to his days as Quidditch captain for Gryffindor.

"She looks beautiful," George said running in the room and closing the door behind him.

"How do you know?" Oliver asked.

"Ginny let me peek," he smiled.

There was a tap on the door and then Angelina poked her head in.

"Everyone decent?" she teased. "At least there's nothing I haven't seen before. Used to share changing rooms with most of you lot."

"What is it?" George asked her.

"It's time," she explained. "We're all meeting downstairs in the hall. Line up like you were told."

"Right now?" Oliver's face was suddenly drained of color.

"Take your time," she laughed. "But right now would be nice. And no peeking. We already put a concealment spell on the bride."

Angelina then disappeared out of the room.

"You said you saw her," Oliver accused George.

"Just trying to cheer you up, mate," he replied. "They won't let me anywhere near there."

They all laughed and piled out of the bedroom. Oliver stood in the back with his mother. Charlie in front of him escorting Demelza Robins, a last minute pick from the bride's party due to Alicia Spinnet's absence. Next were George and Angelina who were already bickering and tugging at each other's fancy dress robes.

Harry linked arms with Leanne in front of them. She batted her eyelashes and he kissed her quickly. Initially he had been concerned about being in the wedding party with his girlfriend. Despite his limited knowledge in the world of dating and relationships, Harry was still fully aware of the repercussion of being a girl's date to a wedding, especially when they were both party of the wedding party. He only hoped she wouldn't start getting ideas of her own wedding.

In front of Harry, Ginny linked arms with Benjy Williams, a Puddlemore player from Oliver's squad. Even though they were no longer together, Harry still cared for her and it made him just the tiniest bit jealous to see her linked arms with another, even if they were just doing it symbolically for their friends' wedding.

"Harry," Ginny had turned around and was looking at him sternly.

"Yes?" he replied dreamily.

"You're standing on my dress," she scolded him.

"Er, right, sorry," he stepped aside.

Harry could feel the jealousy emanating from Leanne's face. She squeezed his arm tighter and without warning, pulled his face toward hers leaving a sloppy wet kiss on his mouth. Harry rolled his eyes. He hated the games women played, but he knew Leanne would have a spat if he wiped his face.

Finally, the tiny witch, although she was more like a fairy, who had helped plan the event steered them all toward the altar. They passed the rows of wizards trying to get a good look at the procession and then stood on either side of the small tufty-haired wizard who presided over the ceremony.

After Oliver took his place under the garland, Katie walked down the aisle in a beautiful white dress accompanied by her father. He gave her away and then took his seat with the rest of the guests.

Harry knew this was a happy day for Oliver and Katie but he felt like time was passing at an alarmingly slow pace. Not even five minutes in he saw George and Angelina making faces at each other from opposite sides of the ceremony. He noticed Oliver had seen it too as he was struggling to keep his composure during the vows.

Finally, the officiant pronounced them man and wife and the festivities began. Leanne sidled up to Harry and they found their seats at a long rectangular table.

"You know," she nudged him, "that will be us one day."

"Er...yeah," Harry winced. He wasn't convinced that he would ever settle down with Leanne, but he didn't quite know how to tell her that yet.

"Hey," she pointed at Ginny who was deep in conversation with Benjy. "Are they together?"

"I'm not sure," Harry replied, once again the sting of jealousy in his throat.

"Harry!" Hermione plopped down in the seat next to him. "Have you seen Ron?"

"Last I saw," Harry told her, "he was trying to get an autograph from Galvin Gudgeon."

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"He's a Seeker for the Chudley Cannons," Harry explained. "Wood invited him and Ron's been chasing him down since before the ceremony."

"I'll just let him tire himself out," Hermione said, as if she were describing a pet. Then she turned her attention to Ginny who was now dancing with Benji. "They look happy."

"Er...yeah," Harry said icily.

"Oh sorry Harry," Hermione said quickly. "I shouldn't have..."

"No, it's okay," he did his best to persuade Leanne. "That was a long time ago."

"Well, I best go find Ron," Hermione stood up, "before he makes a fool of himself."

Harry watched her go and turned his attention back to Leanne. He gave her a sweet kiss, anything to keep her happy, and she took his hand.

"Come on," she urged him up. "Let's dance."

"I don't really..." he began but it was in vain.

Leanne dragged him toward the empty space under the delicate white tent. She looped her arms around his neck and they swayed to the sounds of the harp player. Harry couldn't help but glance in the direction of Ginny and Benji. They were the only other people dancing this early in the ceremony.

"Are things really over between you two?" Leanne asked.

"Er...sorry?" Harry asked.

"Don't lie to me," she replied. "Do you still love her?"

"She's my best mate's sister," Harry explained. "I'll always love her."

"I know you care for her," Leanne replied. "I was there when the chamber was opened. But I want to know if I have a chance."

"Hey," he pulled her close and kissed her deeply. "I'm with you, aren't I?"

That seemed to satisfy her enough. It wasn't long before dinner was served and a round of speeches were made. First Katie's dad, then Oliver's, followed by Charlie and Angelina who had each done a mediocre of planning what they were going to say.

Once that was over, the party really started. The food was cleared, presumably the work of house elves, and couples quickly took their place on the dance floor as a Weird Sisters song began.

Ron must have been practicing his dance steps with Neville as he was gracefully spinning Hermione around in circles. Nearly everyone watched in awe. Harry, on the other hand, could hardly keep a beat. And then of course there was George who couldn't be bothered. Everyone made sure to give him space every time he asked another girl to be his partner. He was definitely an enthusiastic dancer.

Finally, the floor cleared and Mr. Wood announced it was time for a special dance, just the happy couple. George rolled his eyes. He hated these types of formalities. He tapped Angelina's leg under the table and opened his palm so she could see the vial of shimmering dust in his hand.

"Where did you get that?" she asked.

"Do you want it or not?" he whispered. She nodded. "Wait a minute, and then meet me in the kitchen."

Angelina smiled and watched him go. She waited a bit and then stood up herself, following George into the main house. She saw him sitting on the counter with the small vial in his hand and hopped up next to him.

"Ramora scales?" she laughed. "You can't find these anywhere with the anti-poaching laws."

"Charlie got it for me," he explained. "Loads of ramoras washed up ashore in Romania last year. He just picked up the scales. No poaching."

"I've never done this before," she breathed.

"First time for everything," he laughed.

He uncorked the vial and inhaled just a tiny bit. Immediately he felt the effect. He hovered just a tiny bit into the air feeling absolutely weightless. When the initial high wore off, he stepped down onto the solid floor so he was standing opposite Angelina.

"Here," he brought the vial to her nose. "Just inhale a little. See how you like it."

She did as told but in her enthusiasm she may have taken too much. In seconds she felt herself rise nearly a foot into the air. Then she burst into a fit of giggles.

"George!" she shrieked. "Get me down."

"It's okay," he told her. "You took too much. Just hold my hand and close your eyes."

George reached for her hand and she shut her eyes quickly as soon as she felt his warm touch. But instead of descending, she shot further into the air.

"I'm too high!" she opened her eyes. "Get me down!"

He suppressed the urge to laugh and held her hand tightly before reaching up to grab her waist. Then he pulled her down from the rafters and held her close to him so she wouldn't get away again.

"It's okay," he told her. "I've got you."

"Thanks," she laughed.

"I forgot to tell you," he explained, "it's most effective the first time."

"Couldn't have filled me in earlier?" she laughed.

George smiled, he loosened the grip around her waist and she instantly floated into the air. Angelina panicked and hooked an arm around his neck, the other across his back.

"Sorry," he told her sincerely. "I thought it would have worn off by now."

"So I guess, we just," she sighed, "stay here like this?"

"I guess so," he nodded.

He readjusted his grip closing any space that was left between them. Angelina smiled, she was starting to feel the effect of the scales and felt just as weightless on the inside as she did on the outside. But the fear of rising back up toward the ceiling still kept her clinging to George's coat.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"A bit," she pursed her lips together. "Thanks for sharing."

Angelina couldn't explain what happened next. Maybe it was the magical effect of the scales or maybe she had been served too much champagne at the wedding. Whatever the reason, she felt something pull her toward George. She moved her hand so it was plastered to the nape of his neck and brought his lips to hers. He didn't back away. Instead, he kissed her back.

"Hey," she pulled away for a second. "Let's get out of here."

"Upstairs," he hoisted her into his arms.

"No," she breathed. "Let's go to yours?"

George nodded. He held out his arm and she grab ahold of it. With a pop they had left the Wood estate and were standing in the living room of George's flat. He kept one arm tightly around Angelina's waist, despite the physical effects of the scales had worn off, and lit the fireplace with his wand.

"So," she turned to him, "where were we?"

He smirked. His lips were on hers once again as he pressed her against the wall. She wrapped her leg around his waist and he lifted her up, carrying her into the bedroom before laying her on the bed. He shrugged off his dress robes as Angelina unbuttoned his shirt. Then he tugged at the bodice on her taffeta gown.

"Wait," she stood up and turned so her back was facing him. "This is easier."

George smiled as he unzipped her dress revealing the taut muscles of her back. She stepped out of the gown wearing only a pair of lace knickers and stockings. He drew his breath in as she turned around.

"We don't have to do this," he said slowly.

"No," she smiled. "I want to."


	15. 11 July 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a little help from Ron and Ginny, Hermione moves into The Stag and gets caught up in the house shenanigans

The sun streamed in through the cream curtains that Hermione had hung in her new bedroom. Her trunk lay open at the foot of her bed with leather bound books nearly spilling out. She had installed bookshelves along one entire wall and was slowly organizing her small library by alphabetical order.

"Hermione," Ron knocked on her open door. "Need any help?"

"I think I've got it," she replied.

"Oh Hermione," he pointed his wand and the books instantly lined up on the shelves. "I thought you would have figured this out by now."

"But I want them in order!" she protested.

With a quick glance she realized he had organized them even better than she could doing it the muggle way. A reluctant smile spread across her face.

"Where did you learn that?" she asked.

"I'm an auror now," he replied.

"Auror in training," she reminded him.

"You know what I mean," he rolled his eyes.

"Well," she lay back against the pillows, "that's it then. I'm all moved in."

"How are we going to do this?" he plopped down next to her. "You and I under the same roof. I'll be just a few feet away when you can't sleep at night."

"We've lived in the same house before," she reminded him. "How many times have I stayed at The Burrow in the summers?"

"But this is different," he reminded her. "My mum isn't around. No older brothers, although Ginny spends an extraordinary amount of time here."

Almost as if on cue, Ginny poked her head in the room.

"It looks good," she smiled. "Cozy."

She wedged the happy couple apart and giddily hopped onto the bed. Ron rolled his eyes as Hermione made room for her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked annoyed.

"Gwenog and Valmai are on vacation," Ginny explained. "Angelina is training at St. Mungo's. I just didn't want to be alone."

"Since you're here," Hermione smiled, "we could do a little shopping."

Ron groaned.

"You don't have to come," Ginny playfully hit him over the head with a pillow.

"Okay play nice, you two," Hermione warned them. "Is there anything we can all do?"

"We could go into Diagon Alley," she chimed in, "visit George at the shop. Are Harry and Neville around?"

"Harry's here," Hermione explained, "but I don't think he'll want to go with us."

"You mean," Ron interrupted, "you don't think his warden will let him go."

"Don't call her a warden," Hermione said through gritted teeth.

Ginny was quiet for a minute. She kicked herself for thinking that Harry would drop everything as soon as she finished school. Of course, Rita was waiting for any chance to paint Harry as a villain, making him out as a womanizer was exactly the dirt this ruthless reporter was looking for.

But still, Ginny couldn't help but feel jealous of Leanne. She had left the door wide open for any girl to barge right in. And now she missed Harry more than ever. This was different than when he had ended things to save her in a valiant effort to be a hero, or the times they had been apart because he was risking his life to save their world. This time, she had let him go. It was entirely her fault that he was downstairs snogging someone else. Maybe she should have taken up Benji's invitation to dinner. Anything to keep her mind off of Harry.

"Hey," Hermione nudged her. "What are you thinking?"

"Come on!" Ginny jumped up. "Let's do something. We can take the broomsticks out or go to The Burrow. I don't want to be cooped up in here all day."

Begrudgingly Ron stood up and helped the two girls to their feet. They agreed to head to The Leaky Cauldron and found Hannah there who instantly poured them each a tankard of butterbeer.

"So," Ron sipped his drink, "is this what you had planned for today?"

"This is fine," Ginny replied. "I only have a few days before I need to report to the pitch. I don't want to spend them wasting away."

"You're playing Quidditch professionally," Ron reminded her. "It's hardly work."

"Sorry I'm not saving the world," she told Ron. "Not everyone needs to make a difference all the time."

"I didn't mean it like that," he replied. "I'm happy for you. Really."

"Thanks," she smiled.

"We're all proud of you Gin," Hermione piped in. "We just want you to be happy."

"I am," she smiled. "I never thought I'd get a chance to play Quidditch professionally, especially with Umbridge taking over and everything that happened last year."

"Things are better now," Ron assured her. "We're allowed to be happy."

Their conversation was stopped short when Hannah came over with another round they hadn't ordered.

"To celebrate," Hannah told them. "I heard about the Harpies, Ginny. Good for you!"

"Thank you," Ginny smiled. "Is it too much to ask that you sit with us for a round?"

"I can't today," Hannah replied, "but maybe another time. Maybe I can catch one of your games."

"I would love that," Ginny told her. "I'll send you tickets."

The waitress smiled and retreated back behind the bar while they finished their drinks. When they were done, Ron left a few coins on the table and they stopped by Flourish & Blotts so Hermione could scavenge for new books. Meanwhile, Ginny stopped into Quality Quidditch Supplies for some new training robes. When she was done, she found Hermione carrying two canvas bags brimming with books. Then they found Ron wandering the aisled of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"You're here!" Ron smiled when he saw them.

"Come on," Ginny told him. "Let's head back."

She was stopped short when George leaned against the doorway, blocking their exit.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked. "You haven't even tested my new sweets."

"I won't fall for that again," Ron smirked.

"It's good to see you," Hermione smiled. "Don't be a stranger."

"Well, you know," he shrugged off her invitation, "it gets busy at the shop."

"I know," she smiled. "If you ever need anything..."

"Thanks Hermione," he replied.

The two had never been close in school, but she was practically his sister-in-law, part of the family, and Hermione had always been kind to him despite not always agreeing with his business practices. He knew she was just being protective.

"We best get back," Ron said. "Luna is making dinner. Don't want to be late."

"You're welcome to join us," Hermione told George.

"I'll be here late," he replied.

They said their goodbyes and the trio skipped back toward The Stag. A warm inviting aroma filled the air as they climbed the steps to the first floor where they found Neville slicing beets and Harry grinding garlic in the kitchen while Luna stirred a pot that was nearly as large as her.

"What's for dinner?" Hermione asked.

"Mungbean chili," Luna replied.

"Can I help?" Hermione offered.

"I think we have it covered," Luna smiled. "Maybe you all could set the table."

Hermione did as told and grabbed some dishes from a cabinet. Harry handed Luna the plate of garlic and then turned to Ginny. They had hardly spoken in months but both were too prideful to admit they hated the silence.

"Hey," he smiled at her. "I heard about the Harpies. Congratulations."

"Thank you," she replied. "I'll be sure to send you and Ron some tickets when we play the Cannons."

"He'll appreciate that," Harry smiled.

He wanted so badly to reach out and hug her, give her a proper greeting, but things were different now between them. Of course, he had to consider Leanne's feelings, at least until he found a way to ween her off of him. But he also worried that if he hugged Ginny, touched her in even the slightest way, he might never let go.

"Wow," Leanne said, snapping Harry's attention back. "Didn't know we were having a party."

"We?" Hermione mouthed to Ron. He shrugged.

"Dinner's ready!" Luna announced.

The prospect of a warm meal helped diffuse the tension and everyone helped carry dishes and silverware into the dining room. It seemed appropriate to eat at the formal table considering the size of their dinner party. Ginny found herself in a peculiar situation when she and Harry were seated next to each other by chance. Dinner was just underway when they accidentally knocked hands reaching for the pitcher of pumpkin juice.

"Sorry," they said at the same time pulling their hands away.

Then Harry grabbed the pitcher and filled her glass, emptying the caraffe.

"Thank you," she smiled.

"I'll go get more," he stood up and went into the kitchen.

"Excuse me," Leanne stood up to follow him.

The rest of them returned to their dinner but they could hear the angry whispers coming from the kitchen. Neville, who was seated closest, made out a few phrases. Ron's mouth dropped open and he winked at Hermione. None of them disliked Leanne, but they didn't like her relationship with Harry. Hermione was reminded of the days when Ron was with Lavender Brown, she wasn't particularly awful, but she didn't pair well with their friend.

"We're done Harry Potter!" Leanne said finally.

They watched her grab her coat and storm. A few seconds later Harry emerged with a full pitched of pumpkin juice and a half-grin plastered on his face. Ginny couldn't help herself, but she was smiling too.


	16. 1 August 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fleur and Bill enjoy a lazy day off at Shell Cottage

The water lapped along the shoreline, the tide rising slowly, as Fleur laid on her back taking in the sun. Next to her, Bill absentmindedly stroked her long slender legs as he read The Daily Prophet. It was a rare opportunity for both of them to have the day off, but slowly the wizarding world was repaired and their jobs became less demanding.

She shielded her eyes from the beating sun and looked at Bill. Living by the sea had warmed his complexion and he now sported a slight tan that complimented his shaggy red hair.

"I could stay here forever," she whispered in her heavy French accent.

"Is it better than France?" he teased.

"Much better," she smiled.

Fleur rolled over and began drawing shapes in the sand. Bill put down his paper and laid down next to her, his fingers tracing the shapes she had made.

"Darling," he kissed her shoulder, "you're happy here right?"

"Of course, love," she replied. "But I do miss my family. Little Gabrielle has probably grown so much now."

"Well," he took her hand, "I was thinking we could visit them. I've got some time next month."

"Really?" she sat up. "We could go to Paris?"

"Yeah," he smiled.

"Bill dear!" she kissed his cheek. "I adore you."

As she spoke the words, waves washed over them and she squealed. Bill laughed and lifted her into his arms to protect her from the frigid water.

"It's freezing!" she shivered clinging to his neck.

"It will be fine," he said as the waves overtook the beach, "you just have to get used to it."

Without warning, he dropped her into the shallow water, before diving under the waves. When he resurfaced, Fleur splashed him with freezing water in retaliation.

"I can't believe you!" she said, her teeth chattering. "I'm in my clothes."

"I'm sorry," he replied. "I couldn't resist."

"I'm going inside!" she said running back toward Shell Cottage.

Bill laughed and followed her. When they were back inside, he lit a fire and ran a bath with plenty of bubbles, the way Fleur liked.

"Darling!" he called out.

He finally found her in the bedroom stripping off her damp clothes. She glowered at him until he lifted her into his arms and dragged her toward the tub.

"Extra bubbles," he said placing her back on the ground.

"I think I can forgive you now," she replied. Then she motioned for him to turn around. "No looking."

Bill laughed and left the room to change out of his own wet clothes. He loved the way Fleur was still modest despite nearly two years of marriage. He almost feared the day when they finally learned everything about each other. It frightened him that they might grow complacent.

"Bill!" he heard Fleur call out for him.

"Darling," he leaned in the doorway.

"Hand me a towel, please?" she asked.

He grabbed her robe from the linen cupboard and held it out for her. Still covered in bubbles, Fleur slid into the terry robe. She turned around and kissed Bill, then pulled away.

"Thank you," she breathed, "for today."

"I thought you'd be mad," he smirked.

"I was," she replied. "For a bit."

Then she elegantly strode past him into the next room. Bill ran down the steps to the kitchen, where a fire warmed the room. He put the kettle on and by the time he was brewing the tea, Fleur had hopped onto the counter wearing a silk camisole and a cashmere sweater.

"Tea?" he offered her a cup.

"Thank you," she smiled, sipping it eagerly. "Oh! Hot."

Bill opened a drawer and pulled out a milky white sweet which he handed to Fleur.

"Here," he said. "Try this. My brother was working on it before..."

He couldn't finish. Even after a year, Fred's death still haunted him, as it did everyone else in his family. There were memories of him everywhere, which Bill often found comforting, but not without the initial sting of remembering his brother's absence.

"It's okay," Fleur took his hand, the lozenge completely forgotten.

"Sorry," he shook his head. "Sometimes I just..."

"I know," she kissed him.

Fleur hopped off the counter and wrapped her arms around his waist, clinging tightly. Bill stroked her hair gently as he fought back the tears. Bill was usually so strong, being the oldest of seven children did that to a man, but there were intimate moments only Fleur was privy to.

"I love you," he whispered.

"And I love you," she echoed.

Fleur ran her fingers along the scars that marked his cheek. Bill once shuddered at the thought of his disfigured mug, but Fleur embraced him completely. His scars quickly became her favorite part about him. It reminded her of his bravery and courage, his fight for a better future. He was exactly the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

"You know," Bill said finally composing himself, "today is a special day."

"What's that?" she asked.

"Our anniversary," he replied. "We got married, three years ago today."

"I know," she smiled. "I was waiting for you to remember."

"I got you something," he told her.

Bill opened a drawer and pulled out a tiny pink parcel. He handed it to her and she opened it with bated breath. Inside was a brown leather thread strung through a stone that glowed a fiery yellow. Fleur's mouth dropped open when she saw it.

"It's beautiful," she smiled.

She handed it to him and turned around so he could fasten it around her neck, which he did eagerly. When she faced him once again, the crystal rock illuminated her face.

"It's a moonstone," he explained. "Like the ones you wore on our wedding day."

"I love it!" she kissed his cheek. "And there is something I have for you."

"What's that?" he asked.

"You'll see," she bit her lip, "if you follow me upstairs."

Fleur slipped off her cardigan, dropping it on the ground as she tiptoed up the stairs. Bill followed eagerly, his eyes widening each time she lost another layer of clothing until he was standing in the hallway to their bedroom. Fleur propped herself on the bed with only a sheer scarf as covering. Bill didn't waste a second.


	17. 4 September 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Ginny's first game with the Holyhead Harpies and her nerves are getting the best of her.

Ginny splashed cold water on her face in an attempt to calm her nerves before the home match against the Falmouth Falcons. Angelina had suggested it but it didn't help. She wiped her brow and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Suddenly she was plagued by the reality that she would have to face the stands of Harpies fans and perform for them.

As a rookie on the team, she had never expected to play. She was just happy to be playing Quidditch for a living. She fully intended to work her way up the ladder and win Gwnedolyn's favor. But fate intervened and after the starting Chaser was injured, Ginny was pulled up the ranks. She shouldn't have even been the first pick. Three other Chasers had been on the time for much longer, but Gwendolyn insisted. Ginny outperformed them during their training season and she was chosen to fill the empty spot. Initially Ginny had been ecstatic but now, just the thought of playing Quidditch made her feel ill.

Her biggest worry was that her luck would run out in this game. She had hardly struggled during the last few months. First Angelina had practically handed her the job by whispering in Gwendolyn's ear. Conveniently enough, Angelina was also looking for another person to move into her room in the flat she shared with Gwenog Jones and Valmai Morgan. Ginny happily took the extra space, allowing her less stress as she looked for a place to live. She had always been told that good things come in threes and her third stroke of fortune was witnessing Harry's breakup with Leanne just weeks ago. Her biggest fear was disappointing her team in this match.

"Gin!" Valmai, an olive-skinned Chaser with wavy sun-kissed hair, stood in the doorway.

"Hey, sorry," Ginny tried to regain her composure.

"It's alright," Valmai told her. "I remember my first match."

She squeezed Ginny's hand tightly and led her out into the changing room where they could hear the crowd screaming in the stadium's seats. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, willing herself to be brave.

Unbeknownst to Ginny, Angelina had made sure her family was sitting in the stands high above her. The team's healer had stopped into George's joke shop and presented him with six tickets, making him promise that he would bring her family. She knew Ginny was nervous about her first match, so she kept it a secret knowing she would be happy to see them once the match was over.

High up in the air, practically level with the six hoops, George sat in the box with his brother Ron, who wore green and yellow robes for the first time in his life. Harry sat on his left waving a green and yellow banner. Behind them Arthur, Molly and Charlie sat eagerly waiting Ginny's debut.

A sudden fanfare quieted the crowd and the teams were introduced. Harry smiled when he saw Ginny soaring through the air to take her place next to the other Chasers on the Harpies. He was starring off dreamily at her when Ron nudged him in the ribs and pointed to a blonde witch sitting a few boxes away. A notepad floated in front of her and a quill jotted down her notes as she spoke. Harry let out a defeated sigh when he recognized Rita Skeeter. With the ministry finally cohesive once again, news was slow and there was no doubt in his mind that Rita was commenting on his failed relationship with Leanne in conjunction with his subsequent presence at Ginny's first professional match.

But he had come a long way since then. Rita's interest in defiling his name in the papers was no longer his concern. He had stared death in the face and come back to tell the tale. Dealing with Rita was like swatting at a persistent gnat. Sometimes he wondered why she had chosen a lady bug when her personality was more in tune with a different type of insect. Besides, he was more interested in watching Ginny's first game.

Oblivious to her family sitting in the best seats the stadium had to offer, Ginny soared through the air intercepting Quaffles from the other team. Not even an hour into the match, she had already scored seven goals. That combined with her fellow Chasers' goals brought their score to one hundred and fifty points. The Falcons trailed behind with only thirty points. Ginny knew they were the better team but if they didn't catch the Snitch, it was very possible they could lose. With that thought in mind, she circled the pitch scoring goal after goal, completely forgetting her reservations about the match earlier in the day.

Now with a one hundred and fifty point lead, Ginny saw a Bludger headed her way. She dodged it and Gwenog sent it flying in the other direction toward a Falcon's Chaser. Trying to dodge the Bludger, he lost sight of the Quaffle he was chasing and Ginny sped toward it in order to score a final goal before the Falcon's Seeker caught the Snitch.

"You did it!" Valmai said, flying past her. "We won!"

Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth in shock as she looked up into the sky where green and yellow fireworks sparked over the crowd. The seven Harpies players cheered as they settled back down on the ground, only to be swarmed by the rest of the team. Angelina kissed Ginny's cheek and pointed up toward her family sitting in the stands.

"They'll be very proud," she said.

Ginny squinted. She could vaguely make out the five Weasleys with their flaming red hair. Then she looked to the right of Ron and saw Harry beaming at her. For a second, she blushed a deep red and then turned to Angelina.

"I can't believe you," she smiled. "Thank you!"

"Oh stop," Angelina scoffed. "Let's go celebrate."

The two girls ran after the rest of the team as they headed into the changing rooms. It was clear to everyone that they had a long night of celebration ahead of them.


	18. 31 October 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Halloween at The Stag and Ron is hell bent on throwing the best feast they've seen yet

Harry and Hermione were in the living room stringing purple tinsel along the walls. Ron had already set up a tower of pumpkins in the corner of the drawing room. Antique brass candlesticks hovered above the dining table where Ron had placed dozens of warm dishes. He was going a bit overboard with the Hallowe'en Feast.

"Your tinsel is crooked," Hermione teased.

"Why don't you fix it then," he replied. "I can help Ron in the kitchen."

"You in the kitchen?" she scoffed. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Where's Neville?" he asked. "Have you seen him lately?"

"I think he's helping Luna with the roof decorations," Hermione replied. Then she glanced at the ripped t-shirt and jeans Harry wore. "You should probably change into something nicer. I think Ginny is coming."

She watched as a sly smile crossed Harry's face. He had been far more pleasant since Leanne had abruptly ended things between them.

"Alright," he replied. "Can you finish up here?"

"Sure," she smiled.

He hurried upstairs and she finished with the tinsel before wandering into the kitchen to find Ron up to his ears in puff pastry.

"Are you getting along okay in here?" she asked.

"Just need to take the tarts out of the over," he replied, "and wipe the egg yolk off my face before my brothers arrive."

"Can I help?" she offered.

"It's alright," he kissed her. "I'm nearly done."

Hermione disappeared up to her bedroom to get changed. Her life had been so hectic since she started working at the ministry and she hadn't had a chance to buy anything new for the party. Luckily, Luna had come to her rescue with a gorgeous red cocktail dress.

She slipped it on and then did her best to appease the frizzy ball of auburn hair that stemmed from her head. After reading every book she could find on beauty spells, she still had not found a permanent solution to the bird's nest that sat on her head. She finally gave up, applied some red lip gloss and went downstairs to find a modest party had been brewing during her absence.

"You look amazing," Ron told her.

"Thank you," she smiled. She saw a fleck of seasoning on his cheek and rubbed it off. "You have something."

"Oh right," he wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Thanks."

Ron linked arms with Hermione and whisked her toward the kitchen so they could grab drinks for their guests, leaving Harry to handle the newcomers, many of whom where friends from his Dumbledore's Army days.

"Potter!" Angelina skipped over to him when she danced out of the green flames.

"Angelina," he hugged her tightly.

"Come on now," she smiled. "Aren't you going to get me a drink?"

"Here," George seemed to appear from thin air and handed her a glass of butterbeer. Then he raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Where's my brother?"

"In the kitchen?" Harry said skeptically.

He didn't even notice when George and Angelina went in search of their friends. Instead, his eyes were locked on the scarlet-haired beauty that was stepping out of the fireplace. Ginny was wearing a black fitted cocktail dress that delicately slid off her shoulders. Harry had never seen her look more beautiful. His eyes followed her as she wandered the room greeting old friends until she finally reached him.

"Hi," he muttered, "you...er...look great."

"Thank you," she smiled.

"Can I get you something?" he offered.

"I could use a drink," she replied. "Nothing strong. I have Quidditch practice in the morning."

"Well, I'm glad you made it," he told her. "It's good to have you around."

She followed Harry into the kitchen where he poured her a glass of butterbeer.

"Thank you," she took it from him and sipped slowly. "Your place looks nice. I've never seen it like this, so crowded."

"Ron's idea," he explained.

"He loves Hallowe'en," Ginny laughed.

There was a long pause. They weren't used to this anymore. Since last summer it had all been so formal between them. Now the obstacles that kept them apart were gone.

"I..er...better get back," he explained. "We have guests."

"Right," she nodded hanging back in the kitchen while Harry disappeared.

Even as he walked away, he knew he had made a mistake. He finally had Ginny within arm's reach. They didn't need to resort to formalities but something about their relationship was different. He was determined to finally repair things between them before the night was over. In the meantime, he had to attend to the hundreds of witches and wizards that were due to arrive.

"'Arry!" he recognized Fleur's Parisian affectation.

"Fleur," he smiled as she threw her arms around him.

"Hi Harry," Bill shook his hand. Harry still felt a hint of fear anytime he was around Ginny's older brothers.

"Glad you made it," Harry told them. "Can I get you something? Mead, firewhiskey, butterbeer?"

"McSpratt's if you have it?" Bill said. "For both of us. And do you know if my parents are here?"

"I haven't seen them," Harry replied. "You may want to ask George."

He skipped away to find some sparkling water for the two of them and then returned to find Fleur chatting up Hermione in her native language.

"Here," he handed them each a glass.

"Thank you," Fleur said in her thick accent.

"Did you hear the news?" Hermione asked him. "Fleur and Bill are expecting."

"That's fantastic!" Harry replied. "Congratulations!"

"We wanted to tell my parents first," Bill laughed, "but Fleur can't seem to keep the news to herself. At this rate my mum will find out from her copy of Witch Weekly."

"Here's your chance," Harry pointed toward an older couple stepping out of the fireplace. "There they are."

"We'll keep quiet," Hermione assured them.

On that note, Fleur practically bolted for the fireplace, nearly knocking over her in-laws, while Bill followed behind her. From across the room, they could hear Molly's squeals of joy at the prospect of her first grandchild. The entire room was filled with joy as everyone congratulated the happy couple. Seeking a breath of fresh air, Harry climbed upstairs and stepped out onto the roof garden which was empty apart from Ginny who sat on a stone bench sipping a steaming mug of butterbeer.

"Did you hear the news?" he asked.

"I'm going to be an aunt," she smiled knowingly. "Fleur told me weeks ago. She can't keep a secret."

"Your mum is elated," Harry told her.

"I can only imagine," she laughed.

They shared a smile and then, almost as if on cue, Ron's radio, which had been set up in the garden, began to play Magic Works by The Weird Sisters. Harry locked eyes with Ginny and grinned slightly.

"This used to be my favorite song," she breathed.

"Would you...er..." he swallowed hard. "Do you want to dance?"

"Sure," she smiled.

"I'm not very good," Harry said.

"It's alright," she smiled.

He stood up and took her hand. The too swayed to the music and he did his best not to step on her feet while she rested her head on his chest. As the song's final bars played, Ginny looked up at him, she bit her lip and Harry swore he had never been more attracted to her.

"You're amazing," he breathed.

She couldn't help herself. They had been apart for too long. Ginny stood on her tiptoes and looped her arms around his neck before meeting his lips with hers. Harry held her tightly and deepened the kiss. Their tongues smashing together as he pressed her against the window overlooking the attic. In that moment, the world fell away and it was just the two of them, until George and Angelina stepped out onto the roof clapping slowly.

"Oh, don't mind us," George teased. "We're just trying to get some fresh air."

"Merlin's beard!" Ginny pushed Harry off of her. "You frightened me!"

"Don't be cruel," Angelina warned him.

"Come on Harry," Ginny tugged at his tie. "Let's go find someplace to be alone."

Harry nodded toward George and followed Ginny, presumably down to his bedroom.

"Now you've done it," Angelina teased.

"It's just good fun," George replied. "Besides, I don't need Harry getting too comfortable. He might have defeated the dark lord but he better remember what I'll do to him if he hurts my sister."

"What will you do to him?" she wanted to know.

"Oh, I don't know," he sighed, "I'll probably send him a Self-Propelling Custard Pie and some Whiz-Bangs of course."

"George Weasley," she smirked, "you are so predictable."

"Really?" he sidled up close to her. "Did you predict this?"

He couldn't blame the firewhiskey this time. His actions were purely intentional. George had a hand on her waist as he kissed her lips, then her jaw, making his way toward her chest.

"Just as I thought," she breathed, "utterly predictable."


	19. 1 November 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after Halloween and Ginny's surprise appearance at breakfast leads to trouble with Ron and Hermione

Ginny rolled over onto her side. She was naked apart from the red and gold sheets that adorned Harry's bed. The light was streaming in through a gap in the curtains, illuminating the discarded glass bottles from the night before. She wanted to lie there forever, just her and Harry, but she had Quidditch practice in a few hours. Gwenog would have her head if she was late.

"Gin?" Harry breathed.

"Yeah?" she lifted her head so she could meet his gaze.

"Did you get any sleep?" he asked.

"Not a wink," she replied, tracing his clavicle with her finger.

"Sorry," he smirked.

"It's alright," she kissed his cheek. "This was fun."

"Can I ask something," he sighed, "at the risk of sounding like a girl?"

Ginny nodded. She sat up against the pillows, pulling the sheets with her. Harry wondered why she insisted on staying covered, considering their activities only a few minutes prior. He tried his best to focus without getting distracted by the naked woman in his bed.

"Er...about us," he took a deep breath, "does this mean we get another chance?"

"What about Leanne?" she asked.

"You know as well as I do," he scoffed, "she'll have nothing to do with me."

They both laughed. He felt bad about how things ended with Leanne but they both knew there was no substance to that relationship.

"I guess, what I'm asking," he took her hand, "is, have you had enough time to think, to be Ginny?"

"That depends," she batted her eyelashes. "If I say no, are you going to run into the arms of the next girl that smiles at you?"

"Why would you think that?" he laughed.

"Because," she sighed. "You're Harry Potter. The Chosen One. The Boy Who Lived. Girls fawn all over you. And I'm just Ginny."

"You're not just Ginny," he kissed her hand. "You're a starting Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. You used to have a poster of Gwenog Jones on your bedroom wall and now you share a flat with her. And, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"You really now how to make a girl feel special," she smiled.

"So," he paused, "let's give us a chance? Yeah?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "I think that could be nice."

Harry smiled. There was a delicate silence in the room as Ginny bit her lip, giving Harry her best 'come hither' look. He took the bait and leaned across the bed to kiss her. They were both under the covers once again. She giggled as Harry covered her in kisses.

"Wait! Wait!" she protested, coming up for air.

"What is it?" he groaned.

"I've really got to go," she ran around the room collecting her discarded clothing. "Quidditch practice is in a couple of hours. Gwenog's already going to have my head for not coming home last night."

"Wait," Harry threw on a pair of pants as he slid out from under the covers.

"What?" she turned to him.

Harry slid a hand around her waist and kissed her deeply. Ginny held onto the nape of his neck as she pulled him closer.

"Seriously," she finally let go. "I have to leave. Do you think Hermione could make me one of those caffe lattes so I don't pass out on the pitch."

"About that," he sighed. "Make sure Ron doesn't catch you leaving."

"Are you scared of my brother?" she asked.

"Terrified," Harry replied.

Ginny laughed. She gave him one last peck on the cheek and snuck down toward the drawing room. She could see the fireplace from the hallway but she heard voices coming from the other room.

"Ginny!" she nearly jumped three feet in the air when she heard Hermione.

"Hermione!" she smiled. "You frightened me."

"Sorry," came the reply. "I didn't mean to."

"It's okay," Ginny said. "I just have to get going."

"Can I make you some breakfast?" Hermione offered.

"Uh no," Ginny said quickly. "I'm running late."

"Alright then," Hermione flashed a smile. "It's good to see you around here again."

Ginny nodded. She didn't understand why Hermione was acting so oddly until she turned the corner and found her brother Ron leaning against the fireplace with an eyebrow raised.

"Morning," she offered a weak smile.

"Where did you come from?" he asked.

"The attic," she lied. "I was too tired to floo home. Didn't want to risk it."

"Try again," he told her.

"Can we not do this right now?" she pleaded. "I'm late as it is."

"Fine," Ron shrugged, "but I'm going to have a talk with Harry about his overnight guests."

Ginny groaned and finally left The Stag by way of the fireplace, leaving Ron and Hermione to finish cleaning up the remnants of the previous night.

"You shouldn't give her a hard time," Hermione told him.

"Did you see her hair?" Ron roared. "They slept together. Right above my room. I could hear it!"

"Harry's your best mate," Hermione replied. "He's being respectful."

"Not to me!" Ron scoffed. "I had to cast a dozen silencing spells to get some sleep."

"You can't really blame them," Hermione tried to reason with him. "They're in love. It's bound to happen."

"What's bound to happen?" he asked. "Sex? Because let me remind you of someone who is not having sex."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she said icily.

"It doesn't mean anything, Hermione," he muttered. "I just...if we can live in the same house and not do it...they can..."

"Careful with your words," she told him.

Ron sighed. He knew he would never dig himself out of that mess. Instead he muttered an apology and returned to the task of cleaning the house. Hermione was fed up with cleaning and even more annoyed with Ron so she trekked up to Harry's room and knocked twice.

"Harry!" she called out.

As much as he wanted to crawl back into bed, he knew there was no turning her down. He lifted his wand to wave the door open and she stepped into his room with a determined pep in her step. Hermione took a seat at the edge of the bed and huffed loudly.

"What is it this time?" he asked.

"Do you think I'm a prude?" she sighed.

"Does it matter what I think?" he asked

"Not really," she replied. "I just can't help but wonder if I'm torturing Ron by making him wait."

"This is not a conversation I should be a part of," he told her.

"Sorry," she shook her head. "I just don't know if I'm doing the right thing. You know, I battled dark wizards and nearly lost my life. We could have died virgins, me and Ron. We still might. Who even knows –"

She paused when Harry snorted. Her eyes narrowed and he was reminded of the nights he spent in detention with Umbridge.

"What's that for?" Hermione grilled him.

"He and Lavender were..." Harry could tell this was news to Hermione. "Sorry, I thought you knew."

"Ron never told me," she breathed.

"Look," he put an arm around her shoulders, "he could have been lying. Mates do that kind of thing. He was probably trying to impress Dean and Neville."

"They know too!" Hermione was livid. "I'm gonna kill him!"

"Hermione wait!" Harry called after her.

But it was too late. She was already halfway down the stairs before he caught up. Ron could see the anger in her eyes when she appeared in the hallway.

"I can explain," he didn't even know what she wanted, but he knew he better have an explanation.

"You and Lavender!" she roared. "You let me believe the two of you were just snogging."

"Wait, hold on," he told her. "She practically had me under a love potion and you...you didn't even care. You were with McLaggen."

"Ron," she seethed.

"But what does it matter?" he pleaded. "We're together now. This is good and I'm happy waiting."

"You are?" she asked.

"Well no," he gave her the truth, "but I'd rather not do it with you than do it with someone else."

"Oh Ron!" she laughed. He wasn't the romantic type, but he did get his point across.

"But if you were to change your mind..."

Hermione huffed and pointed her wand at him. He didn't have a chance to duck the stream of water that drenched him within seconds. When the water ceased, she was gone, and Ron was left to finish the cleaning on his own.


	20. 25 December 1999

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas at The Burrow and Molly has a special gift for her first grand child

The air was thick with the smell of spiced pumpkin and peppermint bark. The crackling fireplace made The Burrow more warm and inviting than ever. Molly felt it had to be. Now that her children were getting older, they had all moved out. She thought by having a family of nine, The Burrow would never get lonely, but suddenly she was looking forward to the holidays more than anything, knowing it meant there would finally be laughter and joy to fill her humble home.

"Arthur!" she called to her husband, "did you finish with the tree?"

"Nearly done," he replied.

While he finished stringing the fairy lights in the living room, Molly prepared a dinner to put all other Christmas dinners to shame. In her efforts to teach someone in the family her secret recipes, she had nearly bestowed the entire wealth of her culinary knowledge to Ron, but not without reserving a few key dishes. As much as they begged, she would never reveal the key ingredient in her famous Christmas pudding.

Arthur and Molly spent a good part of the morning preparing for their impending guests. He finished with the decorations and then wrapped the rest of Molly's jumpers with an old spell she taught him during their first year of marriage. He was just finishing up when the flames in the fireplace flashed a bright green hue.

A few seconds later Charlie stepped into the living room giving his father a warm greeting. Arthur led him into the kitchen where Molly squealed with joy as her son hugged her tightly. Through the window they could see Percy apparated onto the lawn and strode toward the kitchen door. Hermione was close behind with Ron. Three broomsticks flew overhead and within seconds Ginny, Harry and George descended on The Burrow as Molly welcomed them with open arms.

"It smells amazing Mum!" George hugged her tightly.

"Come now," Molly led them into the living room.

As they gathered around the hearth, Arthur chatted with Hermione about the latest muggle inventions while Ron and Harry filled Molly in on their latest auror mission, interrogating reformed Death Eaters about any plans to avenge You-Know-Who. There was a time when the prospect of her son embarking on a dangerous mission would have frightened her, but now she knew Ron and Harry were both more than equipped to deal with the darkness that lurked in the wake of Voldemort's defeat.

They had just begun to reminisce when the flames in the fireplace glowed green once again. Bill stepped out and made some space for his wife who followed behind. Fleur was nearly halfway along in her pregnancy and her delicate frame boasted a swollen stomach, yet due to her veela heritage, she looked as beautiful as ever.

"Darling!" Molly hugged her tightly.

"Mrs. Weasley," Fleur smiled pronouncing the name with her usual affectation.

"Call me Molly," came the reply. "We're family."

It was a tiny gesture but heartfelt. Fleur's relationship with the Weasley women had been strained at first. She breathed a sigh of relief when Ginny came around but this tiny gesture on Molly's behalf finally cemented the familial bond.

"Alright," George sat down. "It's time for gifts."

He pulled a small bag out of his pocket. It increased in size as he shook it until it touched the ground. Then he reached inside and pulled out a rectangular box wrapped in gold paper with a green bow. He handed it to Ginny and then imparted the rest of his gifts. Everyone received an item soon to be sold in the joke shop. George had a knack for finding the perfect gifts that doubled as free publicity for his shop. Decoy wands for Ron and Harry, a magical locket for Hermione, and the upgraded Broom Broom kit for Ginny and Charlie. His father opened his box to find a mismatched collection of muggle magic and Molly received an instant water boiler. In honor of his impending fatherhood, George gave Bill a whistle that plays an instant sleep lullaby. In the same vein, Fleur received wireless Extendable Ears which George told her could be used to monitor the baby while she sleeps in another room. As usual Percy expected to get a package that exploded on impact or a bewitched plaque for his desk that called him a dirty name when he turned his back. But instead, George gifted him an hourglass intended to countdown until the day he meets the woman he would marry.

"Does this really work?" Percy asked him.

"That's the first one I've made," George replied, "so I guess we'll have to find out."

"At the rate it's going," Percy examined the sand slowly spilling from one chamber into the other, "it will take years."

"Really?" George couldn't resist the urge to taunt his brother. "I thought it'd be longer."

"Thank you," Percy smiled, "I guess."

Once George's gifts were distributed, Hermione handed out a round of rectangular packages. Each was almost identical in size to the others and shared a distinct rounded edge. They didn't even need to open them to know she had bought everyone books. After they opened gifts from the rest of the family, Arthur pulled out the gifts wrapped in the familiar packaging.

As usual, Molly knitted jumpers for the whole family, maroon for Ron of course. Harry's varied slightly from the rest of the family's in that instead of the basic ribbed stitching, his was a cable knit jumper. Hermione, not being an official family member received a pink scarf instead. This year Molly also presented an additional package to Fleur. For the first time, Bill's French bride received a jumper, hers was beige with no initial. Tucked into the same box, Molly had also knitted a sky blue jumper for her first grandchild. It was much smaller than the others, and from what Fleur could tell, much softer.

"Thank you!" Fleur stood up to hug her mother-in-law.

"You're welcome dear," Molly smiled.

The others happily moved on from the conversation of warm weather attire, but in that moment, Molly and Fleur experienced a connection. For the first time since her wedding, Fleur felt like she was truly part of the Weasley family and Molly was thrilled to have her, especially since she was blessing them with the first Weasley grandchild.


	21. 9 January 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a cold winter at Shell Cottage where Bill and Fleur are preparing for the new baby

The water lapped along the shores of Cornwall outside of Shell Cottage. Inside the humble home a fire roared in the hearth as the air filled with the rich scent of simmering wine. In the kitchen Fleur leaned against the counter stirring a pot of coq au vin and cradling her round stomach with her free hand.

Upstairs Bill had charmed four paint rollers to wash the nursery in a delicate shade of pink. Meanwhile he hung a set of curtains in front of the exposed window and finished the last bit of work in the bedroom. When he was satisfied that Fleur would approve, he removed the enchantment from the paint brushes and set them aside in the attic before going back downstairs where his wife was making dinner.

"It smells good," he told her.

"I hope your hungry," she replied.

After nearly five years in England, her accent had improved and only a hint of her French affectation remained. Of course Bill hardly noticed anymore and he couldn't imagine his wife sounding any other way.

"The baby's room is all ready," he said.

"Really?" she gushed. "I can't wait to see it after dinner."

Bill took that as his cue to grab plates from the cupboard. He set the table and Fleur put the finishing touches on dinner. He would never tell his mother but he had to admit Fleur's French cooking far surpassed the meat pies he had grown up on.

"There's something I need to tell you," Fleur said as they sat down at the table.

"Why do I get the feeling I won't like this conversation?" he laughed.

"It's not bad," she assured him, "but my mother and sister want to stay with us after the baby is born. They want to help."

"Darling," he took her hand, "I think that's a great idea."

"Really?" she smiled. "You don't think it's an imposition."

"Not at all," he replied. "If anyone will be an imposition it's my family. Their love can be suffocating at times."

"They're lovely people," she reminded him. "Your mum has been so sweet to me."

"She's very excited to be a grandmother," Bill laughed. "And Ginny's always wanted another girl in the family."

They finished dinner and then Bill offered to clean the dishes, using one of the charms his mother had taught him. When they were done in the kitchen, he led Fleur upstairs to the nursery where he showed her the baby's room he had spent all day preparing.

"Oh Bill!" she gushed. "I loved it."

"Really?" he asked.

"It's perfect," she said leaning into his side.

"The paint is still wet," he let her know. "Don't touch anything yet."

"Maybe we should open a window," she said fanning the air. "The fumes in here are giving me a headache."

"Oh right," Bill replied.

He opened the window and then led Fleur back downstairs away from the paint fumes. They plopped down on the couch and she stretched her legs massaging her aching side.

"Are you working tomorrow?" she asked him.

"I have to," he replied. "I already took off a week to prepare the nursery."

"I'm going to miss not having you home all day," she told him. Then she patted her stomach. "I've only got this baby to keep me company."

"What are we going to call her?" he asked. "You're with her all day. Any ideas?"

"Apolline?" she offered. "Like my mother."

"I don't think my mum would take well to that," Bill replied.

"How about Jacqueline?" came the reply.

"I'm sensing you won't settle on an English name," he smiled.

"My children might be born in England," she explained, "but they will still be half French."

"Children?" he asked. "How many are we planning?"

"Two," she said proudly. "Like my parents. Both girls."

"No boys?" he raised an eyebrow.

"There hasn't been a boy in my family for centuries," she replied. "Sorry darling, but male Veela are practically impossible."

"Our children will only be one-eighth Veela," he reminded her.

"It doesn't matter," she shook her head. "Veela are notoriously female."

"I guess I can forget about carrying on the Weasley tradition," he laughed.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Every time one of us turned eleven," he explained, "my father would take us to a Quidditch match."

"Girls play Quidditch too," she reminded him. "If I recall correctly, your sister makes a living at it."

"It's more than just the Quidditch," he elaborated. "Then he would give us the talk."

"The talk?" she asked. "I'm not familiar."

"You know," he nudged her, "the sex talk."

"Oh, oh," she giggled. "Isn't eleven a bit young?"

"The Weasleys are early developers," he winked at her. "Plus he didn't want us learning from other kids at school."

"Just so we are clear," she warned him, "I will be doing the sex talk with Jacqueline."

"So it's settled?" he asked. "We're naming her Jacqueline?"

"Yes," she replied. "I like it."

"Jacqueline it is," he smiled.

Fleur sighed. She was excited to become a mum and she knew Bill was going to make a great father. She only wished they didn't live so far from her family. The Weasleys were constantly apparating to Shell Cottage or popping in through the floo network but it was more difficult for the Delcaours. Crossing national borders required more permits and visits always had to be cleared with the Ministry unless they arrived by muggle transportation. Sometimes she just wished they could be closer, but she never regretted her decision to stay in England with Bill.

She would not have survived the war without him. They were strong individuals, but together they could conquer anything. She had a hunch she would have easily won the Triwizard Tournament had Bill been in her life then. But of course, no one really won the cup that year. She knew it was a dark path to go down to dwell on the events of the cup, but deep in the back of her mind she was thankful for each event that led up to her building a life with Bill.

"What are you thinking?" he asked her.

"I think we're going to make good parents," she replied. "This baby will be very happy."

"Yeah," he smiled. "I reckon so."

He looked over and smiled at his wife. She was the greatest thing to ever happen to him. Before he met her, he was worried he would end up like his brother Charlie, too engrossed in his work to find love. But Fleur changed everything. She saved him from becoming a lonely old man, or worse, a victim of the war. He knew they were ready to expand their little family but more importantly he was certain that the worst was over and together they could conquer every obstacle that came their way.


	22. 14 February 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Valentine's Day and Angelina finds herself alone in Diagon Alley amidst a sea of rose petals and love potions

The streets of Diagon Alley were littered with pink rose petals as intoxicated couples strolled hand in hand past the busy shops. It was, without a doubt, Angelina's least favorite day of the year. Yet she found herself straying from her usual Valentine's Day tradition of buying herself a box of Chocolate Cauldrons and promptly eating it in one sitting while skimming her flatmates' old copies of Witch Weekly.

But her plans were derailed due to a string of injuries that occurred during training. It was well past dinner time when she was finally done mending the last broken bone. That was how she found herself squeezing between various couples on her way to Sugarplum's Sweet Shop hoping to get her hands on all the chocolate they had left.

The pickings were sparse as most of the holiday stock had already been purchased. She settled on a handful of Chocolate Frogs and a Cauldron Cake. As she stood in the queue, she dug through her coin purse for a few Sickles. While she waited in the long line, her stomach growled reminding her that she had skipped dinner and chocolate was not a suitable substitute for a proper meal. So she paid for her sweets and had only just stepped into The Leaky Cauldron when a familiar face sought her out in the crowd.

"Angie?" George flashed her a smile.

"George!" she hugged her good friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Lee's keeping an eye on the shop for a bit," he explained. "I just popped in for a warm meal. Why are you here?"

"Same reason," she chuckled. "I'm starving."

"Would you want to have dinner together?" he asked. "Would that be weird?"

"George?" Hannah poked her head in and handed him a paper bag brimming with paper cartons. "Here darling."

He thanked the waitress and turned back to Angelina who was tightly gripping her bag of sweets.

"I know it's Valentine's Day," he rambled. "I just don't want to eat alone...and I've got plenty of food. Besides, you'll never get a table tonight."

"Sure," she nodded. "Dinner sounds great."

"Okay," he smiled leading her back to his flat.

They went up through the back staircase and Angelina silently chuckled at the events that led her back to George's flat. She tried to stifle the notion that her brief venture into Diagon Alley may have been prompted by a subconscious desire to casually run into him. She just didn't expect it would actually happen.

She shook the thought from her head as he laid the food down on the coffee table. George popped open a couple of ales and handed one to Angelina who had already curled up on the couch and was devouring a dinner roll. His mouth fell open in awe as he watched her inhale their dinner.

"Sorry," she said in between mouthfuls. "I haven't eaten all day."

"It's fine," he laughed. "Can I interest you in a plate or would that be a waste of time?"

"Stop it," she giggled, wiping her hands on a napkin. "I do have manners."

"Are you sure about that?" he teased her. "I don't recall."

When George was done teasing her she took a swig of ale. Their friendship was rare. It had always been genuine and easy but ever since the wedding something has changed. They had gone from close friends and confidantes to occasional bedfellows without skipping a beat. It seemed like the most natural step to take, so natural they hadn't even mentioned it.

Since the wedding they had spent innumerable nights together, never planned. It was always a spontaneous run in or an afterthought when they left a party in the early morning hours. Slowly he began attending more of Ginny's matches under the guise of a supportive brother while she suddenly found herself stopping into Diagon Alley more often and tonight's encounter was in the same vein.

"I should probably be getting back," she said coyly.

"We both know that's a lie," he winked.

Angelina held her breath as he leaned across the sofa and kissed her gently. The bottle in her hand toppled to the ground as she slid her arm around his neck.

"Bedroom?" she asked as his hands wandered under her jumper.

"Straight to the point," he laughed. "I like it."

She took ahold of his arm and with a tiny pop they were lying on his bed. She never tired of that trick. George was the only person she knew who could apparate while lying down. She shuddered to think of all the other girls who had fallen for the same trick but quickly returned to the task at hand: unbuttoning George's shirt.

"I'm glad I saw you tonight," he whispered in between kisses.

"Yeah," she breathed, hardly paying attention, "me too."

She didn't care for his incessant chatter tonight. She was far more interested in the other things talents he could accomplish with his mouth. But he was incessant. Maybe it was the two bottles of ale he polished off or the inevitable misery that comes with being single on the most romantic day of the year, but he suddenly felt compelled to reveal every thought that was running through his head in that moment.

"Angie," he panted, "I love you."

He could hear her suck in her breath and a coldness fell upon the room. She was frozen, unable to process the three fatal words he had just said. Meanwhile he instantly regretted the decision to speak candidly.

"Sorry," he said finally. "I didn't mean it like..."

"You know what," she gathered her clothes, "this was probably a mistake. Let me just..."

"Angie," he caressed her cheek. "Let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain," she pulled on her jumper. "We just took it a little too far this time."

With a pop she disappeared into thin air leaving George alone in his bedroom. Filling with rage he punched the pillow next to him. It wasn't meant to be like this. He would give anything to go back and make things right, or at the very least charm Angelina into forgetting what he said.

At the same time he was furious with her. She could have stayed and talked it through, at the very least acknowledged his feelings. Granted it wasn't the best moment to tell her he loved her, but they couldn't keep seeing each other in secret like this forever. He wanted something real. But he had very little time for self-pity before Angelina apparated right back into his bedroom.

"Sorry," she sighed. "I shouldn't have done that."

"It's fine," he replied. "I may have been a bit out of line."

"Look," she sat on the edge of the bed, "I know we have to talk about this eventually."

"Yeah," he nodded.

"But tonight's Valentine's Day," she explained, "and we're both alone, tensions are high, let's just take a breather and talk it over later when our minds are clear."

"Alright," he smiled, "what do we do instead?"

"I've got a few ideas," she winked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: It's Ron's birthday but there's a special surprise in store for Hermione


	23. 1 March 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole family comes together to celebrate Ron's birthday but there's a surprise in store for Hermione as wellq

Ginny held tightly onto her broomstick as she landed in the alley behind Harry's flat. She shrunk the broom down to fit in the palm of her hand and slipped it into her pocket. Then she knocked on the front door.

"Ginny!" Hermione answered. "You're early."

"I know," she smiled. "I cut practice. Wanted to get a head start on the weekend."

"Well come in," Hermione ushered her inside. "Harry should be home soon."

"He better," Ginny replied. "Otherwise he'll miss the portkey."

"Do you even know where we're going?" Hermione asked.

"Ron didn't say much," Ginny replied. "Just that I had to catch the portkey from here and make sure you and Harry are on it. He's never been big on birthdays. Not sure why he's so dedicated this year."

"He deserves a weekend away," Hermione replied. "Especially if the rest of us get a vacation out of his birthday!"

Ginny laughed. She helped Hermione finish packing and then they shrunk down all of her suitcases just in time for Harry to walk in the door.

"Hey!" Ginny hugged him when he arrived.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," he kissed her cheek. Hermione cleared her throat. "Sorry, we'll keep our hands to ourselves?"

"It's alright," she laughed. "Come now or we'll miss the portkey."

The three of them ran into the spare bedroom where Ron had left a seemingly innocuous throw pillow in the middle of the room.

"That's it," Harry grabbed one end.

The two girls took hold of the pillow and the three of them felt the familiar pull from the navel. They waited for just a moment before they were hurled through space at an alarming speed. They finally landed back on solid ground and Harry steadied himself on Ginny's shoulder.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Hermione sighed, never a fan of rollercoasters, even in the muggle world.

Then she looked around at her surroundings. They were standing in the garden next to a beautiful home with oak paneling and double french doors. It was the perfect place for a weekend retreat.

"I guess we go inside?" Ginny offered.

The others followed her through the double doors where they found themselves in a quaint country kitchen.

"This place is amazing!" Hermione breathed.

They heard voices outside and opened the door. The rest of the Weasleys were arriving in groups of three and four. First Molly and Arthur with Charlie and shortly after Bill, sans Fleur, with George and Percy.

"I didn't realize all of the Weasleys were coming," Hermione said.

"It's a big house," Ginny winked. "There's room for all of us."

The Weasleys mingled giving each other hugs and Hermione could have sworn they were all exchanging glances as if they knew something she didn't. In fact, it was quite likely they knew more than her. Molly probably had an entire feast hidden in her robes and she could practically smell the explosives in George's coat pocket.

Her imagination was hard at work when she heard the sound of a motor revving in the air above her. She had been away from the muggle world for a long time but she still recognized the sound of a car, only she didn't expect it to be coming from above.

She heard George laugh and then he pointed toward the sky. Just below the clouds, there was a sleek silver sedan. She recognized it as the car she and Ron had taken to Australia when they went searching for her parents. The car landed carefully on the lawn and everyone backed onto the deck.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked confused.

Her question fell on deaf ears as everyone watched Ron step out of the front seat. He opened the back door to reveal a tall pale women with stark red hair. Hermione's mouth fell open in shock when she recognized her mother.

"Mum!" she ran over to hug her.

"Hermione!" the woman hugged her tightly. "I've missed you."

Another pair of arms was wrapped around her and she recognized her father's cologne.

"I thought I'd never see you again!" she told them both.

"Ron found us," her mother explained. "It took some work but he explained everything."

"You're amazing Ron!" Hermione ran across the lawn and hugged him as well. "You know that?"

"Always the tone of surprise," he teased.

"I'm supposed to get you a gift," she protested.

"You still can," he smiled. "You can give me a very special gift."

"Ron!" she slapped him. "Not in front of my family."

"That's not what I meant," he laughed. Then to her shock he got down on one knee. "Hermione Jean Granger you would make me the happiest man in the world if you became my wife."

"Ron," tears filled her eyes.

"Just say yes!" George called out.

"Yes!" she laughed exploding into a fit of giggles.

"Yeah?" Ron stood up and pressed his forehead to hers.

She nodded. She would marry him tomorrow if she could. Ron had reunited her family. He'd given her everything she ever wanted.

"There's one more gift," he told her.

"Ron, really," she sighed. "It's your birthday. I'm the one who should be giving you a gift."

"It's a present for me too," he explained, "and I hope you like it because we can't send it back."

"What is it?" she asked.

"Come inside," he instructed. "I'll show you."

Hermione took his hand and followed him into the kitchen. Ron dragged her to the second floor landing where a photograph of the two of them hung on the wall.

"It's us," she breathed. "Why is there a picture of us?"

"This is our house," he told her. "Please tell me you like it."

Hermione turned to Ron and kissed him softly. He wrapped his hands around her waist and they hobbled toward the closest door. With one hand he opened the door and they found themselves facing a large white tub.

"This one's a bathroom," he laughed. "Still getting used to the layout."

"You know," Hermione pulled away. "Our families are just downstairs."

Their conversation was interrupted with the sound of explosives and a flash of blue light shone in through the window.

"They'll hardly notice we're away," Ron assured her. "George has enough Whiz-Bangs to distract them for days."

"But I've just got my parents back," she reminded him.

"Yeah, I'm really regretting that decision right now," he teased.

"Come on," she took his hand.

Hermione led him back downstairs and they were greeted with cheers and applause from their families. Ron's brothers gave him a pat on the back and his best mate Harry hugged him tightly.

"Now you just need to put a ring on my sister's hand," Ron teased.

"The ring!" Harry checked his pocket. "You still haven't given her the ring."

"Oh right," Ron took it from his friend.

"Hermione," he handed her a small leather pouch. "It's for you."

She unlaced it and poured the jewelry into her palm. It was a delicate gold band with a single diamond in the center. She slipped it onto her finger. It was a perfect fit, but she had a suspicion that Ron had enchanted it to be so.

"You've made me happiest girl in the world," she told him.

"Welcome to the family!" George appeared out of nowhere and patted his future sister-in-law on the back.

"Yeah," Ginny laughed. "Sorry we were so secretive. Didn't want to ruin the surprise."

"Shall we go inside?" Molly gestured into the kitchen. "Dinner is waiting."

"How did she –" Hermione mused.

"Don't ask," Ginny told her. "I'll never understand how she does it."

They all followed Mrs. Weasley into the house where a full feast was waiting on the dining table, complete with a birthday cake for Ron. The Grangers chatted with their new in-laws and did their best to understand all of George's pranks. They chimed into the conversation when they could and Harry filled them in on the rest. Meanwhile, Hermione's hand was glued to Ron's. They were inseparable and they always would be.

Once the cake was cut and the remnants of dinner wiped away, the Weasleys said their goodbyes and took their leave. Harry and Ginny took Hermione's parents back to The Stag in the flying sedan. They would stay there until they opened up shop again in England.

"So," Ron turned to Hermione when they were alone, "what now?"

"I love you," she smiled, "but we're not doing that until the wedding."

"It was worth a try," he laughed.

She smiled. She was more than ready to spend the rest of her life with this man in their beautiful home. She even welcomed unsolicited visits from the rest of the Weasleys. It was going to be a wonderful life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: It's George's birthday and Angelina is unsure about where their relationship stands


	24. 1 April 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's George's birthday, and despite the awkwardness of their last encounter, Angelina does her best to make it in time for his surprise party.

The Harpies' match against the Wigtown Wanderers was uneventful to say the least. With a ninety point lead, the Harpies took the Snitch, ending the match just after midnight. The news was exceptionally great for Angelina who did not have to spend hours after the match mending injuries. As soon as the final whistle blew, she stayed to wish the girls congratulations and then took her bag and left as soon as she was certain they were all in good health.

Angelina apparated into the empty flat with a tiny pop. The rest of her flatmates were still at the pitch celebrating, and probably heading to a local pub, but she had made a promise. With a flick of her wand, she turned on the lights and noticed a package on her dining table. An owl hovered over it hooting as he pecked away at the table.

"Sorry," Angelina apologized to the bird, feeding him some owl treats.

She recognized him. He arrived on the first of every month carrying the potion she ordered. It was a simple potion to prepare and as a healer she was more than capable, but unfortunately it was difficult to make it in bathes smaller than twenty and it took a full month to brew. Once prepared, it lost its potency at an exponential rate, meaning the potion that was not consumed was worthless. It was much easier to order it by owl and have it arrive every month as scheduled.

But Angelina didn't have time to think about the contraceptive potion on her dining table. Lee Jordan had planned an extravagant party for George's birthday and she was already running late. She quickly changed out of her trainer's robes and put on a blue dress Ginny had picked out for the occasion. Angelina swiped on a touch of lipstick and then grabbed a coat. She picked up her keys along with the gift wrapped bottle of Blishen's aged whiskey and made her way to Diagon Alley via the floo network.

She wandered the streets past the other witches and wizards in their flowing robes. She clutched her coat around her and navigated through the crowd until she reached Weasley's Wizard Wheezes where fireworks exploded in the sky above. The shop was closed now and she remembered Lee's warning to take the back stairs to George's flat. Sprinting behind the building she found the familiar door and rushed up the steps before she was startled by one of the installations hidden in the dark of night. When she reached the top floor, the door to the flat was wide open and a party was in full swing.

"Angie!" Katie Bell practically attacked her trying to hug her former teammate.

"Hi Bell," Angelina squeezed her back. "Have you seen the birthday boy?"

"In the kitchen," Katie told her, "showing Harry how to use the new gadgets from the joke shop."

Angelina thanked her and then wandered into the crowded kitchen. George saw her almost instantly and his eyes lit up as she strode toward him.

"Hi," he engulfed her in a hug. "You made it, unlike my worthless sister."

"She said she might stop by," Angelina said as she handed him her gift. "Happy birthday!"

"Thank you," he shook the conspicuous package. "What could it be?"

"It's a bottle of Blishen's," she winked. "Hide it before these neanderthals drink it."

"I've got the perfect place for this," he assured her.

"My my!" they were interrupted when Lee Jordan entered the scene. "My sweet Angelina."

"Hi Lee," she embraced him. "Pleasure as always."

"Don't play with my heart like that," he told her.

Angelina laughed off his remark as she always did and then wandered into the next room to find her friends lounging on the sofa.

"Darling!" Katie grabbed her waist and she went toppling down on top of them.

"You're insane!" Angelina laughed as she propped herself up on a pillow. "I feel like I haven't seen you since the wedding."

"I know!" Katie groaned. "I am so sorry!"

"Why weren't you at Harry's Hallowe'en party?" Angelina wanted to know.

"That bastard," she pointed at Oliver, "never told me about it. He had a match that day and didn't feel like going so he just assumed I wouldn't be interested either."

"I'll kill him," Angelina winked.

Just as she said it, Oliver stumbled over to them and plopped down on the couch next to his wife.

"Are you trying to sabotage our friendship?" Angelina accused him. "Is it because you know she loves me more?"

"Where did you get that idea?" he asked.

"She's talking about the Hallowe'en party," Katie clarified.

"I'm never going to live that down," he laughed. "It's the biggest fight we've ever had."

"That's true," Katie laughed.

They were still chatting when Ginny finally strolled into the party. Her long red hair was tied up into a matted bun and she wore a Harpies t-shirt with her jeans. Immediately she found Angelina and practically collapsed in her lap.

"Long day?" she asked the redhead.

"I'm exhausted," Ginny replied. "Now where's my brother? I'm going to wish him a happy birthday and then I'm off to bed."

"He's over there," Katie casually pointed toward the hallway leading toward the bedrooms.

George's face lit up when he saw his little sister walking toward him. He picked her up and swung her into the air like she weighed nothing.

"Put me down!" she said wriggling out of his grasp.

"Glad you made it, Gin," he said when she was back on solid ground.

"Happy birthday," she smiled. Then she procured a sealed envelope from her pocket and handed it to him. "It's not much but I had to get you something."

"What is it?" he asked as he ripped off the paper.

"Look at it," she urged.

George's mouth fell open in shock when he saw the contents.

"The Hobgoblins reunion concert?" he gasped. "I didn't think anyone could get tickets."

"They can't," she winked. "I know people."

"Thank you," he hugged her tightly. "This is amazing!"

"No pressure," she told him, "but you better use that extra ticket on me."

"We'll see," he teased.

"Alright," she hugged him tightly. "I've had a long day so I'm heading home."

"I'm glad you made it," he smiled, "even for just a bit."

She said her goodbyes and found Harry in the kitchen.

"Hi," she smiled leaning into his chest.

"You look exhausted," quickly adding, "but still beautiful."

"I know," she laughed. "I'm off to bed but I wanted to see you before I left."

"Good night Gin," he kissed her forehead. "Are you still off tomorrow?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"Great," he smiled. "I'll swing by tomorrow? Take you to lunch?"

"Sure," she kissed his cheek, "but let me sleep in."

"Alright," he smiled.

Ginny hugged him tightly and then headed back toward Angelina who was still on the sofa catching up with old friends.

"I'm heading home," Ginny told her. "Are you coming?"

"I think I'll stick around a bit," Angelina replied. "It's my only night off."

"Of course," Ginny hugged her. "Get home safe."

"Thanks," Angelina smiled. "I promise to be quiet when I get in."

Then, with a pop, the redhead instantle disappeared from the room. Many others soon followed until only George's closest friends remained. Kate and Oliver said their goodbyes a few minutes later. With them gone, Angelina wandered into the hallway to find a bathroom. When she reemerged, nearly everyone had left and George was tossing stray bottles into a bin.

"Let me help," she offered.

"No, it's okay," he told her. "Lee said he'd come do it in the morning. His birthday gift to me."

"In that case," she shrugged, "I'm off."

"No wait," he grabbed her hand and pulled her close so she was tucked between his stance.

"What?" she sighed.

"I'm sorry for the other night," he told her. "That was...weird...to say the least."

"Consider it forgotten," she replied.

"It doesn't change things between us?" he asked. "I kind of like what we had going."

"What's that?" she asked. "We sometimes wander into each other's flats?"

"And each other's beds," he winked.

"Out with it," she groaned. "What are you asking?"

"Will you stay over?" he said finally. "Consider it my gift."

"I already got you a gift," she reminded him.

"Can I swap it?" he joked.

She laughed. For years he always made her laugh but after the war, she was the one who brought the laughter back into his life. She saved him from an eternity of misery and she'd likely never know how important she was to him. He battled his feelings for her and his indescrition on Valentine's Day had been the worst mistake he ever made. At least now she finally knew how he felt, but he still wished she would reciprocate as more than friends.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked finally dragging him out of his thoughts.

"Ladies first," he laughed following her into his bedroom.

When Angelina woke up she was lying under the covers in Geroge's bedroom. She expected to find him next to her but she could vaguely make out the sound of sizzling sausages and instantly knew where she would find him. She crawled out from under the covers and retrieved her clothes before stumbling into the kitchen where she found George cooking breakfast.

"I hope I didn't wake you," he told her. "I have to open up the shop soon."

"On your birthday?" she asked.

"Even on my brithday," he replied. Then he handed her a plate. "Hungry?"

"I should really get going," she said. "If I leave now I might be home before the girls realize I was out all night."

"Is this a secret?" he wanted to know. "Should I not be telling anyone?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I just don't really want to answer any questions right now."

"I thought for a second," he mused aloud in a rare moment of vulnerability for George, "you might be ashamed of me."

"Absolutely not," she told him. "You're one of my best mates...and an exceptional lay. I just don't like having to explain myself to people."

"Good," he flashed her a wicked smile.

"Yeah," she bit her lip. Then she pointed to the fireplace. "I should er..."

George put down the skillet and leaned across the kitchen counter to kiss her quickly before she left. Angelina flashed him a smirk as she turned on her heel and disappeared into the green flames. After a neauseating trip through the floo network she made it back to her flat where luckily everyone was still asleep.

She was tiptoing into her bedroom when she caught sight of the package she had left on the kitchen table. Without even looking at the time she knew she was nearly a day late on her dosage. All she could do was take the potion as soon as possible. Quickly she unwrapped the package and downed the clear potion in one gulp. Then she poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice to mask the taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: Victoire's birth interrupts the remembrance of the Battle of Hogwarts


	25. 2 May 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fleur and Bill are blessed with a special surprise on the second anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts

Outside Shell Cottage the water lapped gently along the shoreline. The rhythmic waves crashing delicately against the soft sand added to the comfort of the cramped cottage. Inside Gabrielle swept up in the living room while Apoline stirred a pot of fishy stew, a dish Fleur had been craving daily. Gabrielle gagged at the thought but the soon-to-be-grandmother was happy to cook anything, especially something filled with nutrients.

Upstairs Fleur busied herself in the nursery trying to prepare for the baby, not that there was much left to do. She was due to give birth any day and the only thing missing in the nursery now was a newborn baby. For nearly a week she had waited for the hint of any sign the baby was ready to meet the world but was constantly met with disappointment. The waiting game was driving her crazy and Bill's grueling work schedule meant she spent most days alone walking along the shoreline while her mother and sister did their best to pass the time indoors and away from her constant mood swings.

When she had finally exhausted of arranging and rearranging the linens in the nursery, she sat down in a rocking chair and propped her feet up on the ottoman. She rested a hand on her outstretched belly and waited for her little girl to kick but instead was met with a growling stomach. With a bit of trouble she finally stood up and followed the aroma of her mother's cooking down toward the kitchen.

"Comment allez-vous?" Apoline asked her.

Fleur replied that she was feeling okay but hungry. Her mother prepared their lunch while Gabrielle set the table, trying not to scowl at the scent of boiled fish. Fleur's eyes drifted toward the shoreline as they ate in silence. She had nearly finished her bowl when she felt an unfamiliar lurch in her stomach.

"La bébé?" her mother exclaimed.

"Is it time?" Gabrielle asked in a thick French accent.

Fleur was in so much pain she could hardly speak. She only nodded and her mother ran to boil water and retrieve warm rags.

"Bill!" Gabrielle shouted.

"Godric's Hollow," Fleur breathed.

Gabrielle nodded and in an instant she was gone. When she landed back on solid ground, she found herself at the steps of St. Clementine's. Inside she heard the rumblings of a late morning service. Just beside the church she recognized the small graveyard where she had once accompanied her sister. It was busy today, the anniversary of the many deaths at the Battle of Hogwarts. Dozens of families trying their best to dress as muggles milled about the small cemetery. One family in particular caught her attention and she made her way to the see of red hair that stood opposite Fred's grave.

"Gabrielle?" Harry Potter was the first to notice her. "What are you doing here?"

"Harry," her cheeks flushed. "I'm looking for Bill. Fleur's having the baby."

"He's right over there," Harry pointed to the man with the red ponytail trying to comfort his mother.

"Thank you," she smiled as she ran in that direction.

Harry waved but she was already spurting across the cemetery, as quickly as she could.

"What was that about?" Ginny ask, sliding an arm around Harry's waist.

"Fleur's having the baby," he explained to her.

"I'm an aunt!" Ginny gushed.

"Should we go with him?" Harry asked. "To St. Mungo's?"

"No," Ginny shook her head. "She's having the baby at Shell Cottage. French tradition, her family is bringing in the healer that delivered her and Gabrielle. Mum was furious when she first heard."

"Hear that?" George had sauntered over. "I'm going to be an uncle, probably even tonight."

"Hey," Ginny squeezed his hand. "How about a drink before we meet the little princess?"

"Yes," George nodded.

On his cue, Ginny linked arms with both of them and with a pop they were standing in the middle of Hogsmeade, the only place where snow still fell even in the early weeks of May. They made their way into the Three Broomsticks and found an empty table before Madam Rosmerta came by to take their drink order.

Ginny interlaced her fingers with Harry's as they waited for their drinks to arrive. A scowl crossed George's face while he looked on. He wasn't concerned about Harry's intentions. He played the part of the protective older brother but he knew Harry was good for Ginny. No, his uneasiness stemmed from the solace he felt on the anniversary of his twin's death. He thought about the one person in the world he wished was with him, aside from Fred.

He would be lying to himself if he said he hadn't hoped she would be at Fred's grave today but Ginny stifled that hope when she informed him that Angelina was spending the day with her father.

"Should we have told Ron we were coming here?" Ginny mused aloud, putting an end to George's daydream.

"He'll be fine," George scoffed. "Mum could use some company around Fleur's lot."

"They're family now," Ginny reminded him.

"Don't get me wrong," he assured her, "I like spending the holidays with the Veela, but I don't care for the power struggle between Mum and Apoline."

"Speaking of," Harry interrupted, "shouldn't we get to Shell Cottage soon?"

"We can finish our drinks," George replied. "The little tyke will still be there. I don't think they learn how to crawl away for at least a couple of years."

The three of them laughed and finished off their mugs of butterbeer. When they were done, they left a few sickles on the table and apparated to the cottage at the edge of the sea. From the top of the hill, Harry could see the makeshift grave where they had buried Dobby. For the last two years, a melancholy tone hung heavy on this date, but now with the birth of Bill's first child, they finally had a good omen, a sign to move forward with their lives and turn toward hope and happiness.

Inside the cottage, Fleur was propped up against a mountain of pillows. Her newborn daughter was cradled in her arms as they were surrounded by their closest family members. Bill sat at the edge of her bed, his mouth open wide in awe.

"She's beautiful," he breathed.

"I was thinking," Fleur smiled, "we shouldn't call her Jacqueline."

"Yeah?" Bill raised an eyebrow. "What do you have instead?"

"Victoire," Fleur explained. "It means victory in French."

"I like it," he replied. "We'll have to call her Vic for short because my family will never pronounce it right, but Victoire it is."

Fleur laughed. Their daughter wasn't just the beginning of a new life for her and Bill, she was also a symbol for the entire wizarding community that their efforts at the Battle of Hogwarts were not in vain. She was a prodigy, destined to step into the shoes of her fallen uncle, and many others like him; Victoire was the sign they had all been waiting for.


	26. 6 June 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During her time off, Angelina learns her indulgences may have had unexpected side effects

Angelina's eyes fluttered open. She was getting a little too comfortable with her time off during the summer and had become accustomed to waking up near the middle of the day.

She slowly rolled out of bed and pressed her fingers to her forehead trying to ease the splitting headache. It was only made worse when last night's butterbeers revisited her. She bolted for the bathroom and spilled the sickly sweet liquid into the bowl. When she was done, she rinsed her mouth and popped a Toothflossing Stringmint in her mouth.

The memories of the previous night were fuzzy but she knew the team had gone out to celebrate the end of their season, as they had been doing for two weeks. She reminded herself to better her eating habits. She couldn't let herself go just because she was on holiday. She was already noticing a change in her usually flat stomach.

"Hey!" Ginny tapped on the door. "You're not the only one who got pissed last night."

"Sorry," Angelina let her in. "I'm going to see if we have anything to put on for breakfast."

"Thanks," Ginny squeezed past her and closed the bathroom door.

Angelina stumbled into the kitchen, which was still littered with empty bottles and charmed the bottles into the rubbish bin but they just fell over. She sighed deeply and grabbed a rag to wipe down the counters before knocking the bottles into the trash by hand. Then she opened the ice box in search of something to eat.

"What's this?" she grabbed a container that looked to be a few weeks old.

She peeled off the top and was hit with a nasty odor. She nearly doubled over trying to ward off the scent. Then she tossed it in the rubbish bin as well.

"Anything good?" Ginny asked taking a seat at the counter.

"Not really," came the reply. "Maybe we should go out."

"What are you thinking?" Ginny asked.

"I could go for some pickled eel," Angelina mused. "The Leaky Cauldron?"

"No, gross," Ginny made a gagging face.

"What?" Angelina sighed. "It sounds good."

"It's fine," Ginny stood up. "I can get something else. And maybe we can stop and see my brother since we'll already be in Diagon Alley. He ordered some broomstick wax for me."

The two girls headed into their shared bedroom and changed quickly. Once they were ready, they picked up their bags and headed to the fireplace, only to be caught off guard when Valmai came stepping out of the green flames.

"Where have you been?" Ginny asked.

"Training," Valmai replied dropping her bag on the ground. "Just because we're on holiday, doesn't mean we put the brooms down."

Ginny felt her face burn bright red. Angelina was at liberty to spend a month drinking butterbeer and tanning on the roof because she wasn't a player. Ginny made a promise to herself to get on the broom first thing in the morning.

"So," Valmai asked, "where are you two off to?"

"Diagon Alley," Angelina replied. "Hopefully the Leaky Cauldron will still be serving breakfast."

"It's after noon," Valmai laughed. "Mind if I join?"

"Not at all," Ginny smiled.

She grabbed a handful of the gray sand and threw it in the fire before heading into London's wizarding mecca. Valmai showed up just after her and Angelina brought up the rear. The ride through the floo network made Angelina's already unsettled stomach. As soon as her feet touched solid ground again, she bolted for the restroom in The Leaky Cauldron.

"What's gotten into her?" Valmai asked as she and Ginny found a table.

"Gwenog spiked her butterbeer," Ginny laughed. "She figured it out pretty quickly, but it didn't stop her drinking."

"I like her," Valmai smiled. "Best addition to the team yet."

"Sorry," Angelina returned and took a seat next to Ginny. "I think I just need to eat something."

"Yeah," Valmai laughed. "Heard about your big night. That teaches me to go home early."

A mousy blonde haired girl approached their table yielding a small red notepad. Ginny and Angelina remembered her from Hogwarts but neither could muster up a name.

"I'm Hannah," she smiled. "Can I fetch you something?"

"Pickled eel," Angelina said almost automatically. She incited a groan from the others sitting at the table.

"I'll have the soup," Ginny replied. "Whatever's on special."

"Game pie," Valmai said. "Extra carrots."

"Got it," Hannah smiled and disappeared into the kitchen.

Their food arrived a few minutes later. Once again, the table groaned at the sight of Angelina's meal.

"How do you eat that?" Ginny asked.

"It sounded good," Angelina took a bite. "Not bad."

"My sister ate pickled eel all through her pregnancy," Valmai chimed in. "Couldn't get enough of the stuff. Pickled dragon eggs too!"

"Same with Fleur," Ginny chimed in. "Mum was sending me to Shell Cottage every week with pickled frog legs. The French are so weird."

Angelina rolled her eyes. She was used to the girls teasing her. She usually teased them right back but she wasn't feeling her best. All she wanted was to be back in bed for a few more hours.

"I'm parched," Valmai said finishing off her glass of water. She winked at Ginny. "That's what three hours of flying does."

"I get it!" Ginny protested. "I'll be at the pitch first thing tomorrow."

"Here," Angelina pointed her wand toward the empty glass. "Aguamenti!"

Instead of water pouring from the tip of her wand in a small steady stream, two clouds of vapor spouted into the air and then a gush of water drenched their table.

"Er...thanks?" Valmai laughed.

"Sorry," Angelina replied. "I don't know what's happening with my magic."

"Yeah," Valmai spelled the water away. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually were pregnant."

She laughed and so did Ginny. But Angelina felt her stomach drop. She remembered back to that night she had spent in George's flat. She had taken the potion as soon as she remembered, but maybe it had been too late.

"Angie?" Valmai looked concerned. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

"I don't know," Angelina replied.

"But you haven't even –" Ginny knew from the look on her friend's face. She wrapped an arm around her. "Hey, hey. Everything's going to be fine. It could be something else. Luna was telling me about these Brommets that sting you and then...er..."

"Let's just stop into Slug & Jiggers," Valmai said. "We can pick up a home testing potion."

"Right," Angelina dropped a couple galleons on the table. "Yeah, alright. It'll be fine."

The two other girls paid and they stepped out into the alley behind the pub. Ginny quickly opened the passage to cross into Diagon Alley and they hurried toward the apothecary. Ginny waited outside with Angelina while Valmai bought the potion. It was only a few minutes before the girls were all together once again.

"I got a couple," Valmai explained. "Just to be sure."

"Oh thank you," Angelina hugged her. "Now let's go before I explode with anxiety."

"Let's just go to George's," Ginny offered. "It's right around the corner."

"No!" Angelina said quickly. "I mean, I'd rather just go home."

"Wouldn't you rather just know?" Ginny offered. "If we're wrong then we can spend the day shopping."

"And if I am?" Angelina asked.

"We'll figure something out," Valmai assured her. "But there's no use worrying yet."

Angelina didn't even have a chance to protest before Ginny was dragging her toward Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. They went around to the back door and Ginny unlocked the entrance to the flat. The three of them tiptoed inside and bolted up the four flights of stairs and let themselves into the empty flat.

"Alright," Ginny read the label on the potion milky white potion. "Just a drop of blood. If the color drains, you're in the clear."

"Well what if I am pregnant?" Angelina asked.

"Then it turns red and bubbles," Ginny explained. "But it probably won't even happen."

"I guess now is as good as ever," Angelina sighed.

She uncorked the potion and sat down on the sofa. Valmai cleared the coffee table, tossing aside spell books and what looked like a broken extendable ear. Ginny pricked her finger with pocket knife she kept in her bag. She squeezed a single drop of blood into the vial. Breathlessly they waited for any sign of change. All too soon, the potion turned a deep crimson color and ten bubbles floated into the air out of the vial.

"Blimey!" she sighed. "I'm pregnant?"

"It's alright," Valmai pulled out the other packages. "Let's take another. It could be a mistake."

Twenty minutes later they were hovered over four bright red potions. There was no denying it now. Angelina was definitely pregnant. She could feel the sympathy from her friends weighing on her like a kiss of death.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Angelina clutched her hand to her mouth.

She ran into the bathroom and spilled her breakfast into the bowl. Pickled eel no longer whet her appetite and probably never would again. When she was done, she picked herself up and stood in the mirror. Her deep complexion was sallow and dark circles outlined her eyes. She didn't just feel ill, she looked it too.

"It's alright," she told herself. "This happens all the time. It's a baby. It's good news really. I just have to tell George...Ugh! That miserable twat!"

After a lengthy pep talk she had finally come to terms with her new reality, or at least she had convinced herself enough to step out of the bathroom. But she never could have prepared herself for what awaited on the other side of the door.

"You're pregnant?" George asked when he saw her standing in the doorway.

"Erm..." she was in shock. This was exactly why she didn't want to test the potion in George's flat. "I...er...how did you know?"

"Extendable Ear," he held up the foam earpiece Valmai had tossed aside earlier. "I was trying a wireless version."

"Good news," Angelina forced a smile. "It works."

"I'm the funny one," he warned her. They both chuckled weakly.

"Erm..." Angelina looked around the room. "Where's Ginny? And Valmai?"

"They went to get you seltzer water," George explained. "I'm all out."

"So I guess you know now," she swallowed hard. "I'm pregnant."

"Blimey," George clicked his tongue. "It's mine, yeah?"

"Of course it's yours!" she roared. "I could strangle you!"

"Sorry," he shook his head. "That was insensitive."

George didn't know how to continue. He stepped into the kitchen and pulled two bottles of ale out of the ice box. He popped them both open and handed one to Angelina before quickly catching himself.

"Oh, sorry," he shrugged. "I guess you're not..."

"None for me," she pointed to her stomach. "Besides, you probably don't have enough, now I'm drinking for two."

"That's a joke right?" he raised an eyebrow.

"It's a joke, yeah," she smiled.

Suddenly the door open wide and her friends came back. Ginny handed for a glass bottle of McSpratt's Sparkling Spell Water.

"The bubbles are supposed to help," Valmai explained.

"Sorry George," Ginny turned to her brother. "We'll get out of your hair."

"Er...no," he said quickly. "It's no trouble. Why don't you stay a bit? I could use the company."

"Angelina's not feeling great," Valmai replied. Angelina could have sworn that her friend was catching on. Ginny meanwhile was still oblivious.

"I think I might help with that," George said.

He gestured for Angelina to follow him into the bedroom. After a moment of uncertainty, she tiptoed behind him while the other girls stayed in the living room.

"Here," George handed her a handful of purple sweets, all individually wrapped. "Bill asked me to make some for Fleur. It's the antidote for our puking pastilles. Helps with the sickness."

"Thank you," she accepted them graciously.

"Can we talk?" he whispered. "Without...er...you know?"

"Tomorrow," she replied. "I'll come by in the morning. The girls have their training."

"Okay," George smiled. "Tomorrow."

"Yeah," she sighed turning on her heel.

"Hey," George grabbed her arm gently. "Everything will be alright. I promise."

She couldn't be sure that everything would be alright, but she sure appreciated George's willingness to make her feel comfortable during the scariest moment of her life.


	27. 30 July 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna has special plans for Neville's birthday but her plans are derailed when he receives an interesting proposal

The sounds of the streets of London filtered in through the open window of Neville's room. He was sleeping soundly under the cotton white sheets in his bedroom when a chipper Luna plopped down at the edge of his bed.

"Happy birthday," she whispered, running her fingers through his floppy hair.

"Hey," he breathed turning over. "You're up early."

"Post came," she held out a folded parchment bearing a familiar red seal. "Open it!"

"What's this?" he asked.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Maybe you'll be joining the first years at Hogwarts in the fall."

He laughed as he sat up against the pillows. Luna sidled up next to him and handed Neville the folded parchment which he opened delicately. Inside was a message written in delicate loopy handwriting.

Mr. Neville Longbottom,

I regret that I am unable to meet with you in person but circumstances leave us short a Herbology professor in the coming term. I am aware your work as an auror keeps you busy but I urge you to consider filling the position as Professor of Herbology at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

In your years as a student you showed excellent skill in the subject and received a recommendation from Professor Pomona Sprout herself. More importantly, you proved yourself a compassionate leader and a loyal ally to this institution. I have full faith in your capabilities and await your owl eagerly.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Neville finished reading and stared dumbfound at the folded parchment in his hands. He was lying to himself if he denied ever having considered a position at Hogwarts. In fact, for most of his education he strongly believed he was working toward a career in academia.

It wasn't until the war that he finally found a hidden strength but often he believed it was a matter of self-preservation and a deep desire to protect those he loved that inspired him to be valiant. He couldn't deny that he often wondered if he would still be that meek and forgetful boy, had he not met Harry Potter.

"So," Luna interrupted his deep thoughts, "are you going to take it?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "It's a big change...huge responsibility."

"Well," she hopped up, "you can think about it over breakfast. I'll be downstairs."

As Luna skipped out of the room, he mulled over the letter. Deep down he always knew his time as an auror was temporary. He wasn't cut out for ministry work. He liked herbology and he loved being at Hogwarts. He hastily wrote back a note and then stormed up the steps to the attic where the owls were hooting and flapping their wings excitedly. He fastened the letter to one of their legs and sent it toward Hogwarts with his reply. Then he got dressed and wandered downstairs where Luna was cooking breakfast.

"Happy birthday," Hermione flashed him a bright smile.

"Thank you," he blushed.

Neville had certainly come into his own since his days at Hogwarts but he still wasn't accustomed to being the center of attention. That's why he liked that Harry's birthday was just a day after his. They may all have aided in defeating the dark lord, but when it came to Harry Potter, they all still stood in his shadow.

"Sausage?" Luna asked handing him a plate which he graciously accepted.

"What do you have planned for today?" Hermione wanted to know.

"It's a surprise," Luna let her know.

"Will you bring him back before dinner?" Hermione asked. "I think Ginny has something planned for the two birthday boys."

"I think I can make that happen," she smiled as Neville shoveled his breakfast into his mouth, hardly pausing to take a bite.

After an exhausting day exploring the Forest of Dean in search of a Sopophorous plant for his collection, Neville and Luna sat on the edge of the water. From her coat, Luna procured a bottle of Elderflower wine while Neville laid down a blanket.

"Thank you," he whispered in her ear as she poured them each a glass.

"For what?" her usual naivety was apparent in her voice.

"Today," he replied. "This whole adventure was a good distraction...and the wine is lovely."

"Did you decide?" she asked. "Are you taking the job at Hogwarts."

"I am," he replied.

"Good," she smiled. "They could use someone like you."

"I hope so," he sighed. "I'm only a few years out of school. I'm practically their peer."

"You'll be great," she assured him. "First years will love you!"

"Thanks," he kissed her forehead.

Luna slid a hand underneath his cotton t-shirt and lifted her head to face him. Her lips pressed delicately against his and he took the opportunity to pin her to the ground, only a thin blanket protecting her from the moist dirt beneath them. Neither cared.

Neville's nimble fingers traveled across Luna's petite frame, only pausing to remove their thin layers of summer clothing. She was nearly undressed when he heard a noise alerting him to the presence of others in the forest.

"Should we go somewhere more private?" he asked.

"This is private," she said pulling out her wand to cast a concealment spell.

From the riverbank, Neville saw a few muggles behind the trees. They wore heavy packs and all-terrain boots. Even though he knew the concealment charm protected them, he couldn't help but feel as if the campers were staring right at him.

"This isn't going to work," he laughed putting his shirt back on.

"They can't see us," she assured him.

"Doesn't matter," Neville chuckled. "I can see them."

"Alright," she stood up. "Lets head home. Ginny's planned something special tonight anyhow. Wouldn't want us to be late."

"Good point," he replied wrapping an arm around her shoulders, "but promise me we'll continue this later?"

"Of course," she winked.

With their clothes back on and their bags packed, she took his arm and he apparated them back to The Stag just in time for his birthday dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: It's Ginny's birthday and George upstages her celebration when he shares some big news of his own


	28. 11 August 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Angelina visit the healers for some exciting news

For the first time in over two years, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes did not open to the public. George had a very busy day ahead of him and the shop would have to wait. He secured the door to make sure it was locked and then tiptoed upstairs to find Angelina in the bedroom.

She tugged at her Harpies t-shirt trying to keep it from clinging to her middle. Just weeks ago the shirt had fit just fine but she was nearly halfway through this pregnancy and the top hardly covered her torso. George had accompanied her to visit her father the week prior. Initially, her father was in disbelief but he quickly came around to the idea of enlarging his family. He had nearly given up on the idea of grandchildren until now.

Besides, her father had always been a fan of George and his joke shop. He was delighted to learn that his grandson would be a Weasley. However, he was upset that Angelina and George were not an official couple.

Angelina was hesitant when she first got the news. She had never really considered the possibility of motherhood. That's why she took her potion every month. But she came around to the idea quite quickly. After thinking it through she realized she might actually make a good mother. It was George she was still on the fence about.

His drinking was never a problem for her but now he was going to be a father. He had made a promise to her that his drinking would cease and as far as she knew, he had stuck to it. But there were other matters to consider. A joke shop was not the place to raise a child and she had a week before she had to return to work for the coming Quidditch season. Right now, however, her focus was on her ill-fitting garments.

"Engorgio!" she pointed her wand at her shirt.

Apparently her magic was still acting up due to her pregnancy. Instead of her shirt increasing slightly in size, her stomach had swollen immensely.

"George!" she called out worrying her own magic would do little to reverse the charm, or possibly make it worse. He appeared in the doorway seconds later.

"I didn't think it would happen this fast," he joked. "Are we having a baby tonight?"

"Fix it?" she pleaded. "I tried to stretch my clothes but something went wrong."

"Reducto!" George brought her stomach back down to the appropriate size and then stretched her shirt with a simple charm. "Are you ready to go now? We're already late."

Angelina nodded and they proceeded to the fireplace. Seconds later they were traveling through the floo network until they arrived at the St. Mungo's in a flash of green fire. George arrived first, quickly stepping aside and helping Angelina to her feet when she appeared seconds behind him.

The receptionist appointed them a healer named Audrey who led them toward an empty bed. Angelina recognized the name from the few months she spent at St. Mungo's. Although she had never worked with Audrey personally, she was aware of the the healer's reputation of forgoing bedside manner, but she tried to put her prejudice aside and stay calm for George's sake.

Audrey examined her distended stomach, applying pressure against Angelina's bladder. It took everything in her not to reach out and slap the healer's hand away. Instead she squeezed George's hand tightly, nearly cutting off his circulation.

"Okay dear," Audrey handed her a potion. "Drink this."

Angelina obediently downed the potion and set the goblet down on the table. Audrey pointed her wand at a parchment and uttered a spell, then she pointed her wand to Angelina's round belly. The tip of her wand glowed bright blue for a second and then an image appeared on the parchment. Audrey handed it to George so he could see.

As the wand dragged across Angelina's abdomen, the image on the parchment adapted to illustrate what was happening inside her womb. Finally, Audrey paused for a second to get a better glimpse.

"It looks like it's a boy," she told the expectant parents.

"A boy?" George's eyes began to tear up.

"You'll have a little wizard in just a few months time," the healer explained. "Everything else looks good. We'll send an owl when it's time for your next visit."

"Thank you," Angelina smiled at the woman.

She adjusted her blouse once again while George kept his eyes glued to the moving image on the parchment. When she was ready, George helped her to her feet and they left the hospital, arm in arm.

"A boy, huh?" George laughed. "Victoire is going to be a little princess in this family."

"It looks that way," Angelina rubbed her sore belly.

The two of them strolled back toward Diagon Alley and went upstairs to the empty flat. As soon as they were inside, Angelina plopped down onto the sofa and rested her hand on her belly. George put the kettle on and then sat down next to her, the parchment still in his hands.

"There's something I want to show you," he said.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Come on," he helped her up and led her to the second bedroom.

"I've been here before," she scoffed. "Plenty of times."

"Not like this," he assured her.

George opened the door to the spare bedroom. In the past three weeks, he had entrusted his brothers to help him clean out the boxes in order to turn it into a proper bedroom. He didn't want to tell his family the news until Angelina's father knew so he had operated under the lie that he was renting out the bedroom. Molly had sewn the curtains and linens while the boys painted. Once they were done, George purchased new furniture and made every effort to have it delivered covertly. He was no Harry Potter but he knew if Rita Skeeter caught wind of his illegitimate child with Angelina, it would be a matter of time before his mum was reading the news in her copy of Spella Weekly.

"George!" Angelina held a hand to her open mouth. "It's wonderful!"

"I'll tell Mum we'll be needing the blue linens then," he teased."But now comes the hard part."

"And what's that?" she asked.

"Now I've got to convince you to move in here," he said. "So we can be a proper family."

The kettle whistled, signaling the water was ready for tea. Angelina turned her attention to the kitchen and George followed. She picked a large mug from the cupboard and filled it to the brim before taking a seat on the sofa. He sat down next to her.

"You haven't given me an answer," he said. "Will you move in?"

"I'm not sure it's a good idea," she replied.

"And why not?" George wanted to know.

"This is all happening so quickly," she replied. "I've barely adjusted to the idea of being a mum. I don't want to throw in living together as well."

"I'll sleep on the sofa and you can have the bedroom," he replied. "Besides, your other option is sharing a flat with three Quidditch players. Is that the best place to bring home baby?"

"Can I have some time to decide?" she pleaded.

"Of course. But we have to tell my family today," he said. "At Ginny's birthday."

"You're right," she smiled as she sipped her tea. "Besides, I can't hide it much longer."

A smile crept across his face as he watched her prop her swollen feet up on the coffee table. He didn't know how to tell her that he had been in love with her since their first Quidditch win, since the first time their hands brushed by mistake when they both reached for the same copy of The Daily Prophet, since the first time they shared a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans on the Hogwarts Express. He wanted to tell her that even though he laughed at the time, it pained him to watch Fred ask her to the Yule Ball so effortlessly.

"I'm in love with you," he said finally. "Probably have been for years now and I can't imagine my feelings will ever change. Why won't you give us a chance?"

"George," she sighed, "I love you. You've been a great friend to me, but I don't know if that's enough."

"Can you at least let me prove it to you?" he sighed. "Let me be the father this boy deserves."

"That's not my concern," she replied. "I know you'll be an excellent father as long as you keep the little guy away from the explosives. I just don't know how I feel about us...this whole thing...it's so new."

"We've been friends for ages Angie," he reminded her. "We're having a child together. What more is there?"

"Why can't we just leave it as friends?" she asked. "At least for now. We've never actually been a couple. How do we know it will even work?"

"Fine," he sighed, "but you should move in anyway. I've already built the nursery. You can take the bedroom and I'll sleep in Fred's old room. I just don't want to miss a second of the little guy's life."

"Okay," she smiled. "I'll consider it."

"We should get going," he said. "We can pick this up later."

Angelina nodded. She followed George into the fireplace and after a ride that seemed to take forever, she appeared in the living room at The Burrow. The place was decorated with tinsel and fairy lights for the occasion. They could hear voices outside and George led Angelina through the kitchen, past a three layer cake that read Happy Birthday Ginny.

She tugged at her jumper, doing her best not to look like she had gained ten pounds around her middle and followed George toward the party outside. It was dark now and nearly everyone was drinking and dancing.

"Mum!" George hugged Molly. "Sorry I'm late. There was something..."

"It's alright," she smiled. "Let me get you a plate."

"No, Mum," he told her. "I'll eat later."

"And Angelina!" she gushed when she saw the girl. "I haven't seen you around here for a while. I thought you'd come with Ginny."

"Sorry I'm late," Angelina explained. "I had some errands to run earlier. But I'm glad I made it. The garden looks beautiful!"

"Angie!" Ginny came running over to hug her friend.

"Happy birthday sweeheart," she hugged her back.

They went around greeting their friends and family, while Ginny suspiciously eyed her friend's stomach and her close proximity to George. The birthday girl had her suspicions when she first learned the news that Angelina was expecting.

Of course everyone knew that she had accompanied Fred to the Yule Ball and he was quite taken with her, but nothing much came of it. In fact, she was probably just as close with George as she was with Fred until the latter's premature passing. Because of that, they all pretty much discounted them as lovers. Their friendship trumped everything. But, the same could probably be said about Ron and Hermione and they were only months away from being married.

Finally Ron cleared a path as Molly brought out the cake. They all chimed in to sing Ginny a happy birthday and she blew out the nineteen candles with one breath. Molly began cutting slices for the guests and George cleared his throat loudly.

"Sorry Gin," he said, "I don't want to steal your celebration, but I have a bit of an announcement to make."

"Go on with it!" Ginny replied, taking a bite out of her cake. "George, always a showman!"

"Alright then," George felt beads of sweat building on his brow. "Since my closest friends and family are present, I thought I would let you all know...er...I'm going to be a father."

"Bloody hell!" Ron spit out his butterbeer.

"I knew it!" Ginny jumped up and hugged Angelina. "Why didn't you tell me."

"Yupp," Angelina nodded, feeling a tiny bit overwhelmed.

"You're joking," Molly hugged her son.

"I never joke," he teased her.

"Arthur!" she tugged her husband's arm. "We'll be grandparents."

"Hey!" Bill frowned. "What about Victoire?"

"We'll be grandparents, again," she corrected herself.

The Weasleys fawned over Angelina and George's siblings patted him on the back, even Percy. They all promised to baby sit and Ron offered to watch the joke shop but George knew when the time came they would all forget, just like they had when his niece was born.

"Angie!" she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to find her best firend.

"Katie!" Angelina hugged her tightly.

"Congratulations," the brunette smiled at her. Then she cupped a hand over her ear and whispered. "I guess that makes two of us."

"What?" Angelina's mouth fell open and Katie nodded eagerly.

"It's a bit early," Katie explained, "so we haven't told anyone but I wanted to share the news with you."

"We're gonna be mums?" Angelina mouthed.

"I know," Katie laughed. "Oliver and George will be thrilled I'm sure."

The two girls laughed and Katie quickly excused herself while the rest of the Weasleys congratulated the new parents. After a while, George noticed that Angelina was looking tired, especially with all of his family doting on her. He finally wrestled her away from his overzealous mother and they said their goodbyes before he took her home via floo powder.

"Sorry about that," he said when they were safely back at her flat.

"I expected it," she replied. "At least they're happy for you."

"For us," George told her.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Er...I should be getting to bed."

"Can I make you some tea before I go?" George asked.

"Sure," she smiled. "You know your way around, yeah? I'm going to change for bed."

George went into the kitchen to put the kettle on. While he waited for the water to boil, he search the cupboards for a mug. A few minutes later, Angelina wandered in wearing a pair of shorts and one of George's old jumpers with his monogrammed initial. It was one of the few garments she could find that didn't make her feel like a whale.

"I recognize that one," he teased.

"I borrowed it a while ago," she replied. "I hope you don't mind."

"It fits you nicely," he smiled. "Besides, I've got loads more. One for every Christmas."

"Oh," she raised her hand to massage her side.

"What is it?" George asked concerned.

"Just kicking," she replied.

"Can I?" he asked.

She nodded and raised her jumper. George's hands were warm against her bare skin and she felt the baby move in his direction. Moments like these made her forget that she and George weren't quite an item and she tried to rid herself of the fear of change.

"You probably won't feel anything yet," she told him.

"It's weird," he replied. "Does it feel weird?"

"Yeah," she laughed. "Like I've got a little Snitch fluttering inside there."

The kettle blew catching them both off guard. George brewed her tea and then excused himself.

"Wait," she told him. "Stay. Keep me company?"

He nodded and she grabbed another mug to pour him some tea. Then they sat on her bed, Angelina covered with a plush blanket, while they both sipped their drinks in silence. When they were done, George cleared the dishes and checked to make sure she was comfortable.

"I'm off," George stood up. "Come by the shop tomorrow? We can talk?"

"Sure," she smiled.

He tucked her in and kissed her forehead, then lingered for a moment before saying a word. Angelina stroked his cheek. He was a changed man since she told him the news. George had practically become a father overnight, making sure to care for her as much as she could and completely abandoning the bottles of firewhiskey that usually adorned his flat. Suddenly she couldn't be without him.

"Can you stay?" she moved to the edge of the bed so there was room for him.

"Er...yeah, I suppose," he settled down next to her.

"I'm scared," she breathed laying her head on his chest.

"Of what?" he ran his fingers through her braids.

"I'm afraid I'm falling for you," she admitted.

Maybe he had slipped a love potion into her tea or maybe she was overwhelmed by the love and support from their family and friends in anticipation of their first born son. But the girl who was always so strong had finally found her weakness and he was the humble owner of a joke shop. The man she loved had been standing in front of her nearly half her life, disguised as her best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: A look at the life of Astoria Greengrass


	29. 1 September 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoria Greengrass is starting a very important job

On the first of September, the streets of Diagon Alley were as quiet as they had been in months. With summer over, the children had all headed off to board the Hogwarts Express and no longer ran through the streets buying ice cream and sorting through the bins of Weasley's Wizard Wheazes. Angelina was happy for the reprieve as it allowed her some time to sleep in, but she had an appointment at noon and if she slept in any later, she would be late. So reluctantly she dragged herself out of bed and waddled into the kitchen.

It was no secret Angelina had a bit of a rough exterior. On first impression she definitely didn't come across as the maternal type, but that didn't deter her from hoping that someday she would become a mum. Granted, the circumstances were less than ideal but she and George had quickly settled into a happy relationship, further accelerated by the onset of parenthood. Sometimes she wondered why the two of them had never considered pursuing a romantic relationship in the many years they had known each other.

"Ange?" George poked his head in. "You ready?"

"You really don't have to come," she assured him. "This appointment will be just like the others. I don't need a chaperone."

"Has it ever occurred to you," he sighed, "that I might want to go."

"In that case," she smiled, "we'll leave as soon as I have a shower."

Angelina left George to make a pot of tea while she got ready. She was never one to take too long in the morning so he was only halfway through his cup of tea before she had reappeared in the doorway.

"Shall we?" she asked.

"After you," he gestured toward the fireplace.

With a flash of green flames they were both en route to St. Mungo's where a slender witch named Astoria led them to an empty bed on the second floor. Angelina tried her best to get comfortable but she instantly felt sick when she saw Audrey, her least favorite healer, approach her bedside.

"Good afternoon," Audrey reintroduced herself. "Before we start, I want to inform you that I will be training a new healer today. Please allow Astoria to join us."

Angelina nodded, as if she had a choice. The slender witch with raven-black hair smiled discreetly as she watched Audrey unroll a parchment bearing Angelina's name in large letters at the top. Meanwhile, Angelina laid against the pillows with bated breath, cursing the powers that be for consistently assigning Audrey as her healer. The latter uttered a few words to her trainee and then Astoria began the examination.

George took his girlfriend's hand and watched as she breathed a sigh of relief. The healer-in-training had a much gentler touch than her mentor and was quickly putting the pregnant witch at ease as she dragged her wand across her patient's exposed abdomen. Angelina did her best to try and steal a glance at the parchment Audrey held in her hands but the indignant healer was unwilling to share, keeping the parchment practically pressed against her nose. After what seemed like an eternity, Audrey finally rolled up the parchment and handed it to George.

"Everything looks fine," she told the expectant parents. "We'll see you in six weeks."

On that note, Audrey stood up and turned to leave. Astoria tucked her wand into her pocket and hurried to catch up. She hardly even noticed her patient had gotten up to leave.

"That's it for today," Audrey told her pupil. "You have thirty minutes for lunch and then you report to the fourth floor."

"Oh, okay," Astoria muttered as the healer turned a corner.

With Audrey no longer in sight, she ran up the steps to the cafe on the top floor of St. Mungo's. She ordered a glass of pumpkin juice and a Cornish pastry to go with latest old copy of Witch Weekly. As she settled in her booth, she took a sip of pumpkin juice. It was only a matter of minutes before a house-elf wearing a crocheted scarf and a red bow wrapped around her head, carried over a tray to her table. Astoria thanked her kindly and the elf disappeared with a pop.

She had to admit she was startled when house-elves first began allowing themselves to be seen. Having grown up in the wizarding world, she was accustomed to the role of house-elves in her family's home. For the most part they only spoke to her mother, as head of the household, but as a child she remembered wanting to play with them in her her sister's absence. It wasn't until she had finished school and SPEW became a staple in every copy of The Daily Prophet that she understood the house-elves were being held captive.

She spent the next three months knitting jumpers for each of the three house-elves that had kept the Greengrass home in order since before she was born. That Christmas Eve her mother was livid when Astoria handed her packages to the elves. With no staff to cook Christmas dinner, the family spent the holiday at the Leaky Cauldron. She never went home after that and it was nearly a year before her mother spoke to her again. That's not to say she was suddenly reformed. Astoria still showed nothing but disdain for Harry Potter and his band of misfits. Had she known her first patient of the day was months away from giving birth to a Weasley, she probably wouldn't have shown them the same kindness. No, it was her love for house-elves and other helpless magical creatures that inspired the rift between her and her family.

While she nibbled at her lunch, Astoria buried herself in an article about the infamous Draco Malfoy. His stoic face graced the glossy page, steely gray eyes practically boring into her. She remembered him from the few years that they had overlapped at Hogwarts. He always strolled through the grounds with a sense of superiority and a smirk plastered on his face. Her sister had told her plenty of times that crossing him would be the last mistake she ever made. Still, she was engrossed in his article. It had been two years since the war and in that time Draco Malfoy had allegedly turned over a new leaf. He no longer terrorized Harry Potter or anyone else affiliated with the Order of the Phoenix, in fact, he tried to align himself with them after the war.

Most wizards believed the Malfoys' claims of being under the Imperius Curse were purely an act of self-preservation in the wake of a reformed Ministry. Astoria was among them knowing exactly how calculating the Malfoys were, having been longtime family friends. Yet she said nothing, her own family barely avoided prosecution by exploiting the same excuse. Luckily, she was too young to have been involved in the war on Voldemort's side, but she still didn't wish ill on her family, despite their falling out.

Draco Malfoy's involvement, however, was dubious. Having been eighteen at the height of the war, he would be the youngest Death Eater ever recruited. It was very possible that he was unaware of the true gravity of his actions, working under the orders of his parents. In fact, it was far more likely that he was acting under the Imperius Curse than anyone else. And he spent the last two years trying to convince the entire wizarding world of that. Immediately after the war, without returning to Hogwarts to take his final exams, Draco began lobbying for the reform of the ministry. He was the first to acknowledge the problems of the past and began a valiant effort to eliminate pureblood supremacy, beginning in England. He soon began spreading his advocacy throughout Europe and the last time Astoria heard of him, he was speaking in Belgium.

Still, many thought it was a ploy to avoid sentencing. Others believed he had an epiphany on the grounds of Hogwarts that night. As legend tells it, he was saved by Hermione Granger, a girl he once tortured in school, calling her a mudblood, a crime that was later cemented with Draco's aunt permanently engraved the word into Hermione's arm. Maybe it was remorse, maybe it was a sudden awakening from the Imperius Curse, Astoria didn't really know what to believe but she had to admit that he was successfully carrying on the ruse several years later. If it was in fact a ruse, she had to commend his dedication to the charade.

Taking the last bite of her salad, Astoria flipped the magazine closed, bringing and end to her private musings about Draco Malfoy. She had no time to dwell on the veracity of his newfound career as a lobbyist when work needed to be done at St. Mungo's. She stood up, leaving a few sickles on the table for the house-elf who would shortly appear to clear her tray. Then she dropping the magazine in a rubbish bin and returned to her training on the fourth floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: Ron and Hermione are getting married


	30. 31 October 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron and Hermione are getting married but Harry's been missing the wedding due to an auror assignment.

Hermione eyes flew open and she looked around Ginny's old bedroom in the burrow. A white gown hung on the door across from her and she could hear Mrs. Weasley shouting orders in the yard as they prepared for the festivities to come later in the day.

"Hermione!" it was Ginny tapping on the door.

"Just a second," Hermione finally threw off the covers and opened the door.

"I tried to let you sleep," Ginny carried a tray of toast and tea, "but it's time you get going if you still want to marry my brother today."

"I can't believe it," Hermione was all jitters. "We're actually getting married today."

Ginny laughed. Her friend was usually the level-headed and rational one but the impending nuptials were driving her mad. Hermione felt as if she was in a daze. Her future mother-in-law had not allowed her to lift a finger the last two days. She welcomed the help but was quickly bored to tears by the so-called pampering she was offered. She longed for her childhood friend Harry.

None of them knew where he was, not even Ron. When Harry left six weeks earlier, they all assumed he would return in time for the wedding. Auror missions did not usually last this long, at least not since the Battle of Hogwarts. Thus Harry's extended absence from her life was making her glum.

As close as she had become with Ginny, the rest of the Weasleys, and even Fleur, she needed the rationale and sarcastic humor that only Harry could provide. She imagined if he were with her the morning of the wedding he would distract her with stories of his stag night with Ron. But in Harry's absence, George had been named the best man and his idea of a stag night was drinking spiced mead and blowing off Whiz-Bangs from the roof of the joke shop.

"I'll let you finish getting ready," Ginny told her friend as she slipped out of the room.

"Thank you," Hermione called out after her.

Ginny skipped up the steps of The Burrow and then stopped on the landing. She looked up at the wall where her mother had framed a headline from The Daily Prophet. Harry was pictured below a headline touting him as the youngest auror in history, and the first taken on since Tonks only a few years prior. Ginny's eyes lingered on the image and for a brief moment she wished Harry wasn't an auror. She wished he had chosen a boring profession in the ministry or opened up a wand shop, but she knew he was more than that. He was a powerful wizard and his skills were better suited to defend their world. Besides, she wasn't the type of girl to spend her days pining after a boy, even if he might be the most powerful wizard to ever live. As such, she shook her head of the memory and continued toward her brother's room.

"Ron?" she asked him. "It's Ginny."

"Come in," he hollered.

She pushed the door open and saw him standing in front of the mirror wearing his sleek dress robes. She half expected him to wear the frayed monstrosity from the Yule Ball but this was a new adult Ron who could afford fancy new robes for his wedding, especially with Fleur's good taste to help him pick them out.

"You look great," she told him.

"Thanks Gin," he gave her a hug. "How's Hermione?"

"Saner than usual," Ginny replied. "I think she might be getting used to inheriting a family of Weasleys."

"She's spent every holiday with us for ten years," Ron replied. "Sometimes I'm certain she's only marrying me to be closer to mum and the rest of you lot."

"Oh come off it, Ron," she assured him. "Hermione's been in love with you for ages. Honestly, we're all shocked you waited this long."

They were interrupted when George strolled into the bedroom carrying a handful of peonies. He handed them to his sister.

"Gin," he told her. "Mum says you can figure these out. We're supposed to wear them."

"Sit down," she told them both as she fastened flowers to their breast pockets.

"Is this Hermione's idea?" George asked, "because she's quickly becoming my least favorite sister-in-law. I don't recall Fleur dressing us in foliage."

"It's tradition," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Besides, Mum likes them."

On that note, George stood up and left the room in search of a drink. He finally came across the stock of alcohol for the celebration and grabbed himself a bottle of mead. George didn't bother with a glass. He simply took a swig and poured the rest into a flask tucked in his jacket pocket.

"George!" he was caught off guard when Percy turned the corner. "Mum wants to make sure you've got the fireworks ready for tonight."

"Seamus is handling it," George replied.

"Where've you been?" Ginny looked at them both accusingly. "Guests are starting to arrive. I've got to find Hermione."

Ginny scampered toward her old bedroom where she found Hermione sipping her fourth cup of tea. Her auburn tresses were pinned delicately on her crown and she looked absolutely radiant in a lace white dress.

"You ready?" Ginny asked.

"I think I've been ready since I was eleven," Hermione replied.

"That's good news," Ginny laughed. "Now let's get you married."

Hermione laughed and followed Ginny out of the room careful to clear the path in front of them so Ron never got a peek at his bride. Once she was certain the house was empty, Ginny ushered her into the kitchen where they could clearly see the ceremony beginning outside. A band played an emotional string piece while the guests found their seats.

"We'll all go down first," Ginny explained. "As soon as you hear the music, it's your turn."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled.

Ginny adjusted Hermione's veil, kissed her cheek, and then joined her brothers standing outside. Minerva McGonagall stood to officiate the ceremony. She cleared her throat loudly signaling the ceremony was to begin. Hermione thought Ron would scoff at the idea of having their headmistress perform the marriage ceremony but he was quickly accepting. In fact, he freely welcomed the idea believing there was no one better.

McGonagall read her introduction from a tattered leather book. When she was done, the band picked up and Ginny helped organize the procession. First Luna accompanied by Neville, followed by Fleur and Bill. Finally, she linked arms with her brother George and they led the way for Ron to walk down with his mother. As the music changed, Hermione stepped outside The Burrow where her father was waiting.

He linked arms with her and led her down the aisle amidst a sea of glowing faces. Hermione regretted that only her parents were able to attend her wedding, but it was difficult enough trying to accustom them to the idea. She could hardly imagine trying to plan a wedding with wizards and muggles in attendance. But she didn't feel any less loved as she walked down the aisle admiring the familiar faces of those wishing her and Ron a happy future.

"You made it," Ron said once he'd composed himself from watching her walk down the aisle.

"Always the tone of surprise," she replied.

McGonagall cleared her throat as to continue the ceremony. Like schoolchildren, Ron and Hermione flushed red in embarrassment. Ron took her hand and they turned their attention back to the headmistress who finished up the ceremony.

Angelina sat in the third row where George had a clear view of her in a deep purple dress that stretched across her burgeoning belly. The two had become inseparable since George announced his big news to the family. Everyone thought they were an even better suited couple than Ron and Hermione, and kicked themselves for not having realized it earlier. As they did during every other event that demanded integrity and respect, they were already making faces at each other. Every so often, Hermione would smirk when she caught them and then Ron would squeeze her hand until her face no longer showed a trace of a snigger.

After what felt like an eternity to Ron, they finally exchanged vows to a scattering of cheers and applause as tiny hearts floated above the crowd. Ron didn't waste a second. He lifted his bride off the ground and swung her around. Hermione squealed in delight until he set her back down and kissed her deeply. She melted in his arms, happy to finally share a happy moment with Ron after so many years of torture and despair. As much as they revered the ones who were lost in the wars, they looked forward to a happy future together.

In the sky above The Burrow, fireworks lit up in bright colors that danced on the white tent inviting the guests to move toward the reception dinner. Meanwhile, Ron took Hermione's hand and led her back into The Burrow. His hand gripped hers tightly and they stumbled into Ginny's old bedroom where he laid her down on the bed before covering her in kisses.

"Ron!" she squealed. "We've still got the reception."

"Alright," he laid down next to her, "but can we at least have a moment just for us?"

"You're not even going to try anything?" she scoffed.

"Oh believe me," he sighed, "I want nothing more than that. We're married now after all."

"When the wedding is over," she kissed his cheek. "I'll make you the happiest man in the world."

He held her hand in his and they laid in silence for a minute. She felt butterflies in her stomach at the thought of being married, spending a lifetime with this man by her side. Meanwhile, the festivities outside were in full swing. The band played upbeat dance music while Molly served the guests her homemade meat pies and cabbage.

Unbeknownst to the wedding party, an unexpected guest was circling above The Burrow and primed to arrive via broomstick. The floppy haired flier descended gently onto the meadow and tucked his broom away with the other modes of transportation. He ventured toward the commotion and caught the attention of the maid of honor.

"Harry!" Ginny's eyes lit up when she saw him.

"I've missed you," he kissed her gently.

"You missed the ceremony," she chastised him.

"Don't tell the newlyweds," he held her waist, "but someone more important has caught my eye."

"And who might that be?" Ginny inquired. "Is she here?"

"Enough with the jokes," he whispered in her ear. "Can we sneak away for a minute. I don't know if I'm ready to return to society quite yet."

"I know a place we can go," she winked.

Ginny took his hand and led him away from the party careful to stay out of sight. They stepped into the kitchen and Harry immediately pinned her to the wall. Ginny let his hands roam her waist as his moist lips collided with hers.

"Wait," she pushed him away forcefully. "The bedroom."

Harry hesitantly obliged and followed Ginny through the scullery. His body was pressed against hers and his arms never left her waist as they tumbled into her bedroom only to find it already occupied.

"Harry?!" Ron and Hermione shouted in unison.

"Oh," Ginny breathed realizing the compromising position she found herself in, then thought better of it. "Ron, it's my room!"

"And you're snogging my best friend!" Ron rolled off the bed and stood up to hug Harry.

"Congratulations," Harry told him. He looked at Hermione. "To the both of you."

"I think it's time we all get back to the party," Hermione laughed.

Ron led the way and Harry begrudgingly followed with the girls in tow. Night had already fallen when they made their way outside and couples were dancing under the starlit sky. As the newlyweds approached, the crowd separated to give them space and a slow song began to play. Ron took Hermione's hand in his left and placed his right hand on her waist. They traversed the floor in long sweeping steps as he spun her around the dance floor. It was the happiest Hermione could ever remember being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: It's time for the honeymoon!


	31. 1 November 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron takes Hermione to a surprise location for their honeymoon

The sun streamed in through the open curtains of the master bedroom in the newly christened Granger-Weasley home. After the previous night's nuptial celebration, Hermione's wedding dress dangled off an armchair in the corner and an enchanted fire roared below the mantle. Ron lay asleep snoring loudly but Hermione was wide awake, reminiscing on the night before.

Their wedding had been magical, even for the wizarding world. All of Ron's and her closest friends had come to celebrate and even Harry made a last minute appearance after his lengthy disappearance. It was definitely a night of joy and festivity, but by the time it was over, Ron and Hermione hardly had the energy to apparate to their new home where they planned to stay the night before the honeymoon. But of course, as soon as they ascended the stairs, Ron practically ripped off her wedding dress as they toppled onto the freshly made bed. Hermione had been waiting for that night her entire life and Ron made it absolutely perfect before they finally fell asleep just as the sun peeked up over the horizon.

"G'morning," Ron said groggily kissing her hand.

Hermione giggled. Ron's typical romantic gesture was feigning interest in goblin history while she read him her latest proposal on the treatment of magical creatures. He didn't usually resort to the 18th century code of romance, but maybe this was a new side of him that he reserved for marriage.

"We should get going," Ron told her. "Our honeymoon awaits."

"When are you going to tell me where we're going?" she pleaded. "I can't even pack properly. You know how I wish to be prepared for everything."

"I had Ginny pack for you," he explained. "She assured me it's been taken care of."

"Again?" Hermione laughed. "Will I ever have to do anything for myself?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it," he assured her. "Now come on, we've got to get up."

Slowly, they rolled out of bed and Ron ventured down to the kitchen to cook up a breakfast of fried eggs and toast while Hermione had a quick shower. They rushed to get ready and finally locked up the house, heading to the train station with their luggage shrunken and concealed in Ron's pocket. Hermione helped Ron sort his muggle currency and then the ticket agent handed them two boarding passes to London.

"London?" Hermione asked as she and Ron settled onto a bench to await their trip. "Is that our big honeymoon trip?"

"Maybe," he winked, draping an arm around her shoulders.

"What's in London?" she asked. "We were there last week visiting Harry."

"You'll see," he responded.

"Are you taking me in circles?" she smirked.

"Trust me," he kissed her forehead. "You'll love it."

Their train was announced shortly and Ron stood up, tapping his pocket where their shrunken luggage was safely tucked away, and took Hermione's hand as they boarded the train, taking an empty compartment. Hermione tucked her legs under her and rested her head on Ron's shoulder as she watched their train propelled further away from the platform.

"So," she sighed, "will I ever learn where we're going?"

"I'm taking you to Paris," he replied. "I've been told it's the city of love. I reckon it's a good place for a couple of newlyweds."

"Ron Weasley," she giggled, "you're a complete romantic."

"Don't tell my brothers," he warned her.

"Oh Merlin," she sighed. "I can't believe we're married."

"Oh no," he breathed. "Did you change your mind?"

"Never!" she giggled. "You're stuck with me."

The two of them burst into a fit of laughter as she dodged his kisses in their private compartment.

After three trains, one of which traveled below sea level, Ron and Hermione finally arrived in Paris just as the sun was setting. It made them both wish for international apparition.

"So," Hermione sighed as they stepped out of the train station and onto the streets of Paris, "where to next?"

"This way," Ron pulled out an enchanted compass from his pocket.

Rather than point North like a traditional compass, the small contraption pointed him in the direction he needed to go to reach their accommodations. He slid an arm around Hermione's waist, keeping her close as they turned each corner disappearing into narrow streets until they reached a towering art deco building.

"We're here," he told her digging a large brass key out of his pocket and leading Hermione toward an unmarked wrought iron door.

"What is this?" she asked as she followed him up the narrow staircase to the eighth floor where they entered a second door.

"It's Fleur's," he explained. "Her family's at least. This is their second home."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in awe as she walked into the foyer. Ron pulled out his wand and lit up the room allowing her to see the entirety of the apartment. There was a large sitting room off the kitchen that overlooked a room terrace. A majestic staircase opposite them led to the bedrooms on the second story.

"This is amazing!" Hermione breathed.

"You haven't seen the best part," he told her.

Ron took her hand and led her upstairs to the master bedroom which was rivaled the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Wandlessly, Ron opened the curtains from across the room revealing a stunning view of the Eiffel Tower lit up at night.

"Is that real?" Hermione asked, still in shock.

"It's almost like you can reach out and touch it," he laughed. "At least, that's what Bill told me when he lent us the place."

"This is..." Hermione didn't even know what to say, "truly...spectacular."

"So you like it?" he asked.

"It's perfect," she kissed him.

Ron took that as a yes and hoisted her into his arms. Hermione let out a shrill giggle as he carried her across the room placing her gently on the sleigh bed before he covered her in sweet kisses. It was the perfect honeymoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: It's Boxing Day at Harry's house


	32. 16 December 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas time at The Stag and Molly has a special request for Harry

The walls of The Stag were draped in silver tinsel and garland while a Christmas tree as large as Hagrid reached the highest point of the ceiling with just enough space to squeeze below a twinkling star. At the foot of the tree, Ron and Ginny gathered the rubbish left from opened packages and whisked it into the bin to make room. There weren't many gifts today, being Boxing Day. Most of the packages had already been exchanged the previous day but Harry insisted on having his closest friends and pseudo family gather together the following day for a final celebration of the holiday.

Of course, George had arrived bearing his latest gadgets from the shop and Molly passed out the rest of her sweaters. As usual, Hermione gifted everyone a book and Harry's gifts were always carefully and thoughtfully chosen for the recipient; self-knitting needles for Molly, a muggle mobile phone for Arthur, but most importantly a toy broomstick for Teddy, which the three-year-old had immediately mounted and was now zipping around the room. Every so often, Teddy would flash his grandmother a bright smile and she would kindly wave. The rest of the time she sat with Molly, deeply engrossed in conversation.

Opposite them, Fleur held Victoire in her arms while she explained the joys of motherhood to Angelina. The expectant mother looked none too pleased as she struggled to sit up with her distended belly. She was nearing the most uncomfortable part of her pregnancy and even George's constant doting did nothing to ease her mood. Which is why he and Charlie had gone into Diagon Alley to purchase a barrel of butterbeer to satisfy her craving.

The room was full of Harry's close friends, but tonight, he only cared to talk to one person: Hermione. He had missed her and Ron since they had gotten married and moved into their own place on the opposite coast. It was an easy transition having Ginny move in, but he needed the opinion of someone who wasn't a Weasley. So he gave Hermione a discreet nod from across the room and she followed him up the stairs to her old bedroom. The bed was still made as she had left it. The bookcases she had installed, still lined the walls, but there were no longer books stacked in every available space, they had been moved to the library in her new home, and the antique trunk that once laid at the edge of Hermione's bed now served as a coffee table in her home.

The only trace of her contributions to the bedroom was a quote engraved above the open window. In loopy purple letters she had written "To hurt is as human as to breathe." It was from her favorite fairy tale in The Tales of Beetle the Bard. She had intended to cover the entirety of the walls in passages from her favorite stories, but she never got around to it before she moved out. Besides, she didn't think she would ever find another verse that perfectly captured the feelings she experienced in the years shortly following the war.

Hermione took a final look at the words inscribed on the wall and thought about the state she was in when she moved into her bedroom at The Stag. Her relationship with Ron was stronger than ever. Losing some of their closest friends had put everything into perspective and despite her strength and desire to rebuild their world for the sake of posterity, she was still very fragile. In that moment she realized how far she had come since the end of the war and realized her time living in Harry's home was a much needed reprieve in which she was able to regain her strength to move forward. She realized she was ready to put her struggles and hardships in the past and look toward a future with Ron, with children, with a family. She wanted to read again, this time uplifting stories, and fill her new home with inscriptions of hope and happiness instead of pain and sacrifice. She was ready to live again.

Finally, she breathed a sigh of relief, now pleased with the resolution she had set for herself, and turned her attention back to Harry. He was sitting on the bed with his back leaning against the footboard. She sat opposite him, propped up on a couple of pillows drinking mulled wine from a tea mug. They had spent many Saturdays like this when she lived at The Stag. The two of them would pore through history books, comparing notes while Ron cooked up lunch in the kitchen. It was how they stayed sane and happy in the cavernous mansionette.

"So," he asked her, "how do you like being married?"

"It's brilliant," she smiled. "It's a lot like before except with less fighting...which I didn't expect."

"Strange," Harry mused, "but I guess that's a good thing."

"For now," she replied. "Is that what you wanted to talk about? My marriage?"

"Kind of," he admitted. "Molly has been encouraging me to propose to Ginny."

"Trust me," Hermione laughed. "You're not the only one. She's been hinting that Ron and I should have kids ever since the wedding."

"But you and Ron want to have kids right away," he reminded her.

"Well..." Hermione asked, "don't you want to marry Ginny?"

"Of course I do," he sighed. "I'm just not sure that's what Ginny wants. Last time things got serious, she pulled away. And she's made it very clear she doesn't want to be Mrs. Potter."

"She's going to say yes, you dimwit," she laughed.

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

"Ginny's been in love with you since she was ten," Hermione reminded him. "Just give it time."

"How much time?" Harry groaned. "I can feel Molly resenting me more every day her daughter isn't married, especially now that Ginny's been the last to move out of The Burrow."

"You'll know," she assured him. "Ask Ron. His proposal was perfect."

"If only Ginny had hexxed her parents," Harry said sarcastically. "Then I could win her over with my detective skills and reunite her with her obliviated parents in an elaborate ploy to make her my wife."

"Ha ha," Hermione threw a pillow at him. "Good luck getting advice from me again."

On that note she scurried out of the room for fear of retaliation. By the time Harry had followed her out, she was back downstairs leaning against an armrest next to Ron who gazed at her with the awe of a young man in love.

"Harry," Andromeda pulled him into a hug. "I've been looking for you. We need to get going. Teddy is ready for his nap."

"Sorry," he muttered, "er, thanks for coming."

"Bye Harry!" Teddy outstretched his arms and Harry picked him up, squeezing him tightly in a hug reminiscent of Molly's suffocating embraces.

"Happy Christmas Teddy," Harry told his grandson. Then he turned to Andromeda. "I'll see you on Tuesday?"

"Of course," she smiled, referring to their standing appointment to have dinner together each Tuesday, the night Teddy most looked forward to each week.

Harry walked them to the foyer where Andromeda said her last goodbye before taking Teddy's hand and walking the few blocks to their home. When he returned to the room the rest of the Weasleys were starting to file out as well. They all said their goodbyes and wished each other a happy holiday before heading on their way leaving only Harry and Ginny in the large empty house.

"That was nice," Ginny smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"That's how things should be," he replied. "Happy."

"Yeah," she breathed. "Happy.

"How about we grab some butterbeer," she suggested, "and go up to bed? We can clean this all in the morning."

"I think I'd like that," he kissed her forehead.

Ginny smiled and headed into the kitchen while Harry stood in the foyer pondering for a moment. The boy who lived in a cupboard under the stairs had bought the largest home London had to offer and now it was empty save for him and Ginny. He thought about Mollty's constant pleas to marry her daughter and how happy he would be to start filling this home with children, having a family of his own. It would just take a little convincing to get Ginny on board and he may as well start as soon as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: George and Angelina are parents


	33. 17 January 2001

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a newborn in the house, George and Angelina struggle to get every bit of sleep possible

Angelina was hovering in the delicate space between awake and asleep. She vaguely made out the sounds of baby Fred. waking up from a nap and did her best to will herself out of bed. After maybe half a dozen failed attempts, she finally rolled out from under the covers and tiptoed into the baby's room where she found George pacing as he rocked the baby.

"I thought you were in the shop," she smiled weakly.

"Ginny's keeping an eye on it," he replied. "I wanted to let you sleep."

"Thank you," she said graciously, "but I don't think I'll be getting any sleep until the little guy goes to Hogwarts."

George laughed as Angelina sat down on the daybed. He handed her the bundled infant and she rocked him in her lap as George took a seat next to her.

"He's growing so fast," George breathed. "We'll have a beater on our hands in no time."

"Nope," Angelina shook her head. "He'll be a chaser, like his mum."

"Let's not argue," George said changing the subject. "I actually have a surprise for you."

"What's that?" she asked.

"You've got visitors," he explained, "well, at least, Fred does."

"Who?" she wanted to know, trying to remember the last time she had a shower.

"Ginny brought your old flat mates with her," he explained. "They just wanted to make sure I was keeping good on my promise to house you."

"They can rest easy," she laughed. "You've done a great job of keeping a roof over my head, mine and Fred's."

"I'll let them know to come up," George said.

He sauntered out the door and just moments later, Angelina heard voices in the kitchen. George was offering them tea and pumpkin juice, seeing as how the house had been purged since Angelina moved in there was nothing stronger, when she tiptoed in cradling the baby in her arms.

"Oh Angie!" Valmai gushed when she saw the baby. "He's darling. Can I hold him?"

"Sure," Angelina flashed a smile. "Watch his head."

She handed Fred to her former flatmate and then took a seat on the sofa next to Gwenog. George had retreated back to the shop to reprieve Ginny who was now pouring mugs of tea for each of them.

"So," Gwenog asked, "will you be returning as our healer for next season?"

"I want to," Angelina replied. "I'll go crazy if I go more than a year without an adult to talk to. George has been great with the baby but I think it's because he's got the same mental state as a child. I just need to find someone to watch Fred during the day."

"I'll do it!" Valmai volunteered.

"Thank you for the offer," Angelina laughed, "but you'll be at the pitch, same as me."

"Oh right," she giggled. "I guess that's no use."

"What about Fleur?" Ginny offered.

"She's got her hands full," Angelina replied. "I couldn't ask her that."

Fred began to get fussy while Valmai was rocking him so she eventually handed him to his mother who began humming an old Weird Sisters song which instantly calmed him.

"That's my nephew," Ginny laughed. "Fleur only plays Celestina Warbeck to Victoire. That child is going to grow up with the same music taste as my mother."

"Trust me," Angelina laughed, "George would never let that happen."

"Hey," Gwenog protestested. "Celestina is not that bad. Sometimes I forget how young you lot are."

"I think the real problem," Valmai teased, "is that you're too old."

"You're a riot," Gwenog huffed.

"Maybe we should get going," Ginny laughed. "The two of you are setting a bad example for my nephew."

"I think that's best," Gwenog stood up to collect her things. Valmai followed close behind.

"Hey," Angelina grabbed Ginny's arm. "Don't be a stranger. It's good for George to keep his family close."

"I'll be back soon," Ginny assured her. "You let me know if he's being a pain."

"Of course," Angelina laughed.

"Bye Freddie," Ginny said shaking her nephew's tiny hand before she left.

He cooed in response eliciting a giggle fron Ginny. Then the three flatmates disappeared with a tiny pop leaving Angelina to care for her newborn. As she fed the baby, she used her free hand to flick her wand left and right, wordlessly charming the house clean. For a second she felt a hint of guilt for the muggle mums who couldn't rely on magic to do the housework.

She was just putting Fred down for bed, knowing he would be up within a few hours, when George strolled in, closing the door behind him. Angelina pressed a finger to her lips, gesturing for him to be quiet.

"Is he sleeping?" George asked.

"I just put him down," Angelina replied. "I think I might take a quick nap myself."

"Wait," he pleaded. "We hardly spend time anymore. I thought we might have a quick chat over dinner."

"I'm too tired to eat," she sighed. "I'd rather lie down, but we can chat until I fall asleep."

"I'll take it!" he laughed.

She smiled and followed him into the bedroom. As Angelina rolled under a fleece blanket, George propped up the extendable ear on the side table so they could hear when Fred woke up.

"I was thinking," George began.

"Yeah" Angelina muttered as her eyes felt heavy.

"The shop is doing well," he continued. "I can support all of us and if you didn't want to go back to the Harpies in the fall, you don't have to."

"I like work," she groaned, half asleep.

"You could do something else," he offered. "Work part time, in the shop maybe."

"George, love," she rolled over, desperately trying to stay awake, "I like working. I like the Harpies and as much as I like you, I cannot work in a joke shop."

"It doesn't have to be in sales," he replied. "You could do the books. I'm shit with numbers. Fred always did that part."

"Did you forget I had a baby last week?" she reminded him. "Right now I just want to capitalize on what little time I have to sleep. Work is the furthest thing from my mind."

"Right...yeah," he swallowed hard.

George sometimes got ahead of himself trying to be the perfect father and boyfriend. He forgot that Angelina's priority was making sure their son was happy and healthy. So he dropped her subject and laid down on the bed next to her, making sure the blanket covered her feet to keep her from catching cold. His own fatigue soon overcame and he was nearly fast asleep when her heard Fred's cries through the Extendable Ear. Next to him he noticed Angelina begin to stir.

"I'll go," he whispered. "You get some sleep."

She muttered what could he could only assume was a thank you as he ventured into the next room where he picked his son up out of the cradle to rock him back to sleep. It was tiresome work but it made him happy to be a father.

He still missed his twin brother and no one in the world would ever take Fred's place. But being a father was a new experience, happy and exciting but in a different way. When Angelina had proposed they name their son after George's best friend, he had initially dismissed the idea. He worried he would be constantly reminded of his brother's death or that his son would grow up living in the shadow of his namesake. But as soon as he held the infant in his arms, he knew that Fred was the perfect name. It didn't serve as a morbid reminder that life will certainly some to an end, but rather a symbol that life goes on and that time cures all sorrow. Just like Victoire's name was symbolic of a new beginning for the world of wizards, Fred was symbolic of George's new life as a doting father, and hopefully someday he could also be someone's husband.


	34. 5 February 2001

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two members of Dumbledore's Army are finally getting married

The ruins of Ravenstone Castle were situated in the hills high above the muggle town of Ludlow. To the citizens of this humble market district, the castle looked like a pile of rubble with a meager tower located at the south end. But what they didn't know was that the ruins were a facade concealing the enchanted castle which had been part of the Brown family's estate since the 14th century. Although it was no longer inhabited, the castle was often used for holiday celebrations and events.

Sadness couldn't even begin to describe the deep seeded pain the Browns suffered after the death of their daughter. She was a martyr, not unlike many others who died that night. But knowing their daughter had died courageously did little to soften the blow of losing their only child. It was only when Parvati arrived at their doorstep with a pensieve to share her memories of Lavender with them. While the three of them attempted to piece their lives back together after the war, Parvati grew dependent on the Browns, as they did with her.

She quickly became like part of the family and their visits became a weekly ritual. She shared everything with them as they were her own family and soon the Patils began inviting them to share the holidays. When Parvati first became engaged, Lavender's parents were the first to learn, just after her own family. They were thrilled for her and immediately offered the castle as a venue for the wedding.

The morning of the wedding was filled with equal parts happiness and anxiety as the bride got ready in the highest tower. Far below the tower, a fire roared in every fireplace keeping the great hall warm despite the thin sheet of snow and sleet that blanketed the exterior of the castle. Inside the toasty castle, witches and wizards in their best dress robes milled about drinking butterbeer to keep warm as they awaited the beginning of the ceremony.

Finally, the bells in the north tower chimed eleven times signaling the beginning of the ceremony. The attendants gathered around and took their seats in the many rows of oak benches as the presiding wizard stood at the end of the aisle. An enchanted harp near the back doors began playing a delicate melody as the best man and maid of honor appeared in the doorway.

Seamus Finnigan linked arms with Padma Patil and they slowly began their decent down the aisle. Normally, this was the moment when everyone's eyes were turned on the wedding party, but there were other important people in the crowd today.

As usual, Harry Potter did his best to cover his scar with his floppy black hair but he found it impossible to deter the stares from the rest of the wedding guests, especially with his best friends and Ginny by his side. It was virtually impossible for the four of them to go anywhere without attracting attention. He only hoped Parvati wouldn't be upset that her guests spent the ceremony gossiping about the infamous Harry Potter in hushed tones.

Once Seamus and Padma were standing opposite each other at the end of the aisle, Dean Thomas began the slow decent toward the altar. A wide grin was plastered to his face as he looked around at all of his favorite people, smiling brightly and nodding his head when they locked eyes until eventually he reached the end of the aisle and took his place next to the presiding wizard. Finally, the moment was upon them. Parvati Patil, soon to be Thomas, stepped out of the dark hallway and into the well-lit hall. She wore traditional Indian robes in a deep jewel-toned violet with delicate gold accents which glistened against her glowing skin. For the first time, the guests wrenched their gaze away from Harry Potter and the rest of Dumbledore's army. All eyes were glued to Parvati and her brilliant smile, but none even came close to rivaling Dean's happiness. He was marrying the most beautiful girl he had ever known.

Although Parvati wore traditional Indian robes on her wedding day, the ceremony was not unlike a typical European wizard's wedding. Instead of a three day extravaganza, they were pronounced married within thirty minutes, followed by a night of dancing and drinking with their closest friends.

As the sun began to set on the sleepy town of Ludlow, Ravenstone castle was still in full swing. The nuptials of the members of Dumbledore's Army never went unnoticed and as such, the entire wizarding world had turned out for such an event. Of course, Rita Skeeter was always present at such events, although often unbeknownst to the guests. Yet, Hermione recognized the familiar hiss of an annoying beetle and made the connection, expecting an article in the morning's Prophet depicting the beauty of the Thomas-Parvati wedding. Of course, she never failed to mention the impending possibility of Harry Potter setting down roots and opting for a wedding of his own. It was really only a matter of time and the meddling witch probably already had the story written.

But Rita Skeeter's constant libelous articles were hardly a nuisance to Dumbledore's Army. After all they had endured, Rita's glorified fiction was merely a footnote in their lives. Tonight their attention was dedicated to the happy couple gliding across the dance floor.

Dean marveled at his beautiful new bride. He had always thought she was the prettiest girl in his class, but after the war, they had become so much closer, allowing their love to blossom. For most of their educative years, Dean's adoration had been one-sided, but since his absence from Hogwarts, Parvati found herself missing him. Aside from meetings with Dumbledore's Army and watching the occasional Quidditch match together, they hardly interacted, but when Dean appeared at the Battle of Hogwarts, Parvati experienced a split second of joy despite the dreary terror she was about to endure.

In the hours that followed, Dean and Parvati would fight for their lives, losing dear friends and mentors in the process, yet they found solace in each other. Two days later when she stood at the edge of Lavender's grave, Dean held her hand and offered a shoulder for her to cry on. After that they were nearly inseparable, moving in together within months. But today, they were finally married and neither had ever experienced happiness of this caliber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: Hermione plans a surprise for Ron's birthday


	35. 1 March 2001

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has a surprise planned for Ron's birthday

Hermione stared at the stack of rolled parchments on her desk. She had been certain she would never get through all of the complaints she needed to handle for the department but she finally completed her overwhelming amount of work just as the day was winding down. She slid on her coat and locked up her desk before tucking the key in her pocket. Then she strolled toward the lifts and made her way out to the closest empty fireplace in order to race Ron home.

Although the roof of their four bedroom cottage was lined with melting icicles, the inside was warm and inviting thanks to a charm Hermione had picked up from her mother-in-law. She checked to make sure Ron had not arrived home yet and then got busy making sure everything was prepared in time.

She got the recipe for his favorite dish from Molly and moved it from the ice box to the oven as soon as she arrived. This was her first chance to cook a meal since they got married and she wanted to make a great impression, especially seeing how it was Ron's twentieth birthday.

With dinner in the oven, Hermione got to work hanging tinsel and stringing balloons throughout the dining room. As she was finishing up, the embers in the fireplace glowed bright green and Ginny stepped inside cradling a pink bakery box in her arms.

"Where's the party?" she teased.

"I'm so glad you're here!" Hermione hugged her. "I've still got to set the table and get dinner out."

"Don't worry," Ginny assured her, "Harry's taking him out for a drink. It will be at least an hour before he arrives."

"Oh good," Hermione sighed running up the steps. "I still need to change."

"Are you sure you want us here?" Ginny called out from the kitchen. "Don't you two want to be alone tonight?"

"We have all weekend," Hermione replied. "I want him to celebrate with his friends. We never did anything exciting for him at Hogwarts and last year he spent his birthday proposing to me."

"That was so romantic," Ginny swooned as she grabbed the fine china from the hutch in the dining room.

"It will be your time before we know it," Hermione laughed.

Ginny rolled her eyes. She loved Harry and she knew they were headed in that direction, but after she made it clear to him that she wanted her independence, she was convinced he would be too spooked to even bring up marriage, much less propose to her. At the same time, she wasn't convinced that she wanted to be married anytime soon but she was starting to feel a bit left out as all of her friends were slowly tying the knot.

During the first war, it wasn't uncommon for couples to get married quickly after finishing their studies. Most of them feared for their lives but finding lifelong companionship was one of the few joys they found in life. Of course, during the war, even more couples began to turn to marriage to alleviate the fatal circumstances. Even her brother Bill, who she secretly thought would be a bachelor forever, had settled down during the war for fearing of never having the opportunity.

Of course, after the war, there was an immediate surge of weddings. As is common when death strikes, they were faced with the horrible truth of mortality, leading them to realize there was no time to lose waiting for the other person to make a move. It seemed as if everyone she knew began coupling off as soon as the war ended, if they hadn't already. The days of long engagements were long gone, and although she liked straying from the norm, Ginny couldn't pretend that she didn't want to take the next step with Harry. At this rate, the only ones left unmarried besides them would be Draco and Percy.

"Oh Gin," Hermione beamed, looking at the delicately placed table. "It's beautiful."

"Oh...er...thanks," Ginny muttered snapping out of her daydream where she pictured herself wearing a clingy long-sleeved gown on her way to marry Harry Potter.

"I better get dinner ready," Hermione said, bouncing into the kitchen to pull her dish out of the oven.

As Ginny finished up in the dining room, Hermione began slicing a loaf of bread to serve with dinner. Slowly, Ron's closest friends began to arrive, stepping out of the green flames in the fireplace. Ginny quickly assembled them in the living room and they patiently waited to reveal themselves when Ron arrived with Harry.

"Surprise!" came a shout immediately after the familiar pop.

Ron nearly fell over startled as all of his closest friends jumped out from behind furniture. Harry burst into a fit of laughter as he enveloped Ginny into a hug.

"Is this for me?" Ron asked incredulous.

"Happy birthday," Hermione kissed him.

"Thank you," he laughed. "Thank you all. This is so...er...unexpected."

Ron managed to regain his composure as the group was ushered into the dining room for dinner. They caught each other up on their lives as they shoveled Hermione's steak and vegetable casserole into their mouths. She received a slew of compliments on her cooking and then cleared the plates for the birthday cake Ginny had brought. By the time the guests were beginning to leave, they had nearly polished off an entire barrel of butterbeer.

"Thank you for everything," Ron told Hermione as their final guests filtered out through the glowing green fireplace.

"I'm sorry your brothers couldn't make it," she was referring to Bill and George who now had their own families to take care of.

"It was perfect," he said sliding his hands around her waist. "I'm just glad they didn't stick around all night. I think I still have a gift left to unwrap."

"Ron," Hermione giggled. "I still have to clean the kitchen."

"It's okay to use magic sometimes," he winked, casting a silent spell to get the dishes cleaned.

"You know," she rested her hand on his shoulders, "we've never done it in the kitchen."

"What a perfect birthday gift," he smiled, kissing her.

It was only a matter of seconds before he cleared away a pile of dirty dishes and set Hermione down on the kitchen counter. Ron couldn't imagine a better way to ring in his twentieth year.


	36. 23 April 2001

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville gets a special visit at Hogwarts

Ever since Neville began his new teaching position, he was living at Hogwarts to be close to work. While he was gone, he encouraged Luna to make use of his empty room at The Stag and she did, often staying there when she wasn't trying to track down the latest creature on her list. 

Occasionally, when Neville was given reprieve from his duties and allowed the night off, he would take Luna out for dinner in Diagon Alley and then they would return to The Stag and spend the night together. Aside from those few instances, he had virtually vacated the premises leaving Luna to make herself comfortable. Now the closet nearly overflowed with ornate gowns and jumpers. The book shelves were lined with rare books about mysterious species and rough sketches of these creatures were framed and tacked to the wall. 

Luna liked living at The Stag. She could even admit to herself, obviously she was too polite to tell anyone else, that she preferred living there without Neville. The Stag was a refuge for them. It was Harry's way of giving them all a second chance, an opportunity to live their lives outside of the umbrella of the war. She was happy there and she loved being able to come home to her closest friends gathered around the fire playing swapping stories, even Ron and Hermione who had since gotten married and moved out on their own. The only thing wish for was to see Neville more often and that was why she stood at the steps of Hogwarts castle on a warm Saturday in the spring.

“Miss Lovegood,” she turned around to find Professor McGonagall towering over her. 

“Professor,” Luna smiled. 

“I wasn't expecting you,” the kind headmistress told her. “Hagrid planned an excursion to Black Lake with the fifth years. Maybe you would like to accompany them.”

“I'm here on personal matters,” Luna informed her, “and I'd like to do some research in the library if that's alright.”

“I'll inform Madam Prince that you're expected,” she smiled at Luna.

“Thank you,” the former pupil replied. 

McGonagall was soon on her way and Luna took her time wandering through the halls on the way to Neville's office. She stopped to greet the portrait of Dumbledore and visited with the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw. They chatted for a bit and then Helena let her know that Neville could be found in the owlery. Eager to see him, but still happy to take in the wonder and magic of Hogwarts, she sauntered off down the halls and up the enchanted staircases. When she arrived, she saw Neville feeding them treats. 

“I knew I would find you here,” she smiled.

“How did you...” he was confused.

“Helena told me,” she explained. “I came to use the library and thought I might find some company.”

Neville didn't even let her finish her thought before he was halfway around the room holding her tightly. He leaned down to kiss her but snickers from incoming students quickly tore them apart.

“Maybe we should go somewhere...private,” Luna whispered in his ear.

“Follow me,” he replied, stopping to give the students a stern nod, as if to warn them to keep quiet.

He led her down the steps to the corridor which housed the Room of Requirement. Due to the room's role in the battle that ended the war, it was no longer a mystery to the students as it once had been. But due to the damage sustained from Crabbe's rogue Fiendfyre spell, the Room of Hidden Things was still inaccessible. At McGonagall's request Shacklebolt sent his best cursebreakers to restore it. She knew how important the room had been to Dumbledore's Army and she wished it would once again serve the students of Hogwarts. Unfortunately many of the precious artifacts housed amongst the forgotten rubbish were lost in the fire. 

Thankfully Neville was uninterested in the Room of Hidden Things. Instead, he just wanted to get away from the prying eyes of his students for a minute. He kept Luna close to his side and waited for the students to clear the corridor. Then the brick wall made way for a pair of oak doors to appear. He dragged his girlfriend in behind him and they slipped into the Room of Requirement unnoticed. 

“Is this what it's like being a professor?” Luna said amused. “Sneaking around like adolescents?”

“I'm meant to set an example,” he reminded her.

“So,” she glanced around the room, “this is your requirement?”

The room revealed a four poster bed fit for a king with rose petals scattered in the shape of a heart. Strawberries drizzled with chocolate were stacked high on a silver platter next to a never-ceasing fountain of champagne. It was like something straight from the pages of Witch Weekly's romance section. 

“I didn't realize the room was so literal,” he laughed.

“I was thinking we could catch up first,” she sighed. “I've hardly seen you since the wedding.”

“There's no much new with me,” he said taking a seat on the majestic bed.

“Nothing?” she pried, hopping up on the bed next to him. “You haven't taught a thrilling lecture or had an exciting run in with Peeves?”

“Nothing is as thrilling,” he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “or exciting, as seeing you.”

“Well,” she brushed off his advances, “I had a bit of a breakthrough.”

“Oh really?” there was a discernible apathy in his voice. Now he was really beginning to get annoyed and silently wished Luna would agree to save the work talk for later.

“I think the book will be finished by the end of summer,” she told him. “I've found the link between hippogriffs and thestrals. Hagrid is coming with me on an expedition when classes are over.”

“Do we have to talk about Hagrid right now?” he pleaded, his fingers caressing her cheek. “We could be doing literally anything else.”

“Alright,” she caved rolling onto her back.

“Finally,” he laughed burying his head in her neck.

“Just make it quick,” she hurried him. “I need to make it to the library before Madam Pince closes up.”

She heard Neville groan at the thought of his colleague, the librarian. But then he chose to ignore her comment and make better use of their limited time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not keeping this account up to date. There should be loads more chapters arriving over the next few days


	37. 2 May 2001

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Fleur's first birthday and the Weasleys distract themselves from the dark memories of this anniversary

The wind blew delicately across the shoreline at Shell Cottage, ruffling the rose bushes that grew at the base of the back door. Outside the narrow house, Bill was stringing up fairy lights to illuminate the garden before the sun set on the water. Inside, Fleur balanced a one-year-old Victoire on her hip while she stirred a pot of coq au vin over the stove. The new mum had quickly become accustomed to her role in the house but was eagerly anticipating some much needed time with adults, a luxury which she had not experienced often since she quit working over a year ago. 

“Darling?” Bill stepped into the home, dusting himself off. 

“Kitchen,” she called out in her thick French accent. 

“The lights are done,” he explained. “I just need to head upstairs and get changed. Everyone should be here soon.”

“First,” she pointed to a towering croquembouche on the kitchen counter, “can you put the cake on the table?”

He nodded and kindly carried the pastry, placing it in the centre of the long rectangular table. He chuckled to himself when he remembered the fight he and Fleur had over the unusual birthday sustenance. His French bride insisted on a croquembouche which was essentially a pillar comprised of cream puffs with a sugary glaze drizzled on top. Bill loved his wife's cooking and he was not opposed to French cuisine, but he feared the moment when he told his own mother that her culinary skills would not be required at her first grandchild's birthday. Even the thought was blasphemous. 

“I thought you were going to change,” Fleur said, peeking her head into the dining room.

“Er...right,” Bill remembered the task at hand, flashing his wife a smile. 

She watched him disappear up the narrow staircase and then put the final touches on her dish. A glance at the clock reminded her that Bill's family was arriving momentarily. She set the toddler down on the floor with her toys and caught sight of herself in a decorative mirror. Her cheeks were flushed from spending the afternoon over a hot stove and her hair could use a wash but thankfully her veela heritage made a messy bun and a rosy cheeks look like they belonged in the pages of Witch Weekly. 

“My sweet girl,” Bill said standing at the foot of the steps once again. Fleur looked up and smiled at her husband, but his kind words were not directed at her. Instead, he strode across the room and picked Victoire up into his arms. The little girl cooed and kicked her legs happily. 

“She's happy,” Fleur laughed. “I think she knows she's seeing her uncles. My great grandmother had a gift for divination. Maybe little Vic's inherited it.”

“Or maybe she just likes her new toys,” Bill winked.

Before Fleur could answer the fireplace glowed with green flames. Seconds later, Harry Potter emerged from the embers and strode toward Fleur hugging her tightly. 

“Where's Ginny?” Fleur asked. 

“She's right behind me,” he explained. “Forget her bag as we were leaving and had to run back and get it.”

“Glad you made it, mate,” Bill shook his hand, cradling his daughter in one arm.

“How's the birthday girl?” Harry asked, taking Victoire in his arms just as Ginny popped out of the green flames behind him. 

The bubbly redhead kicked the soot off her boots and jumped onto her older brother. He caught her in his arms and spun her around the room before planting her back down on solid ground. 

“I've missed you,” Ginny sighed. “Remind me to send you tickets for next season. You've got to come and see me play. Bring Vic! I'm sure she'll be knocking Quaffles about in no time.”

“Maybe in a few years,” Fleur cut in. 

“I'll hold you to that,” Ginny smiled at her sister-in-law. Then she embraced her. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

“Thank you,” Fleur said warmly. It had taken a long time for Ginny to acclimate to a new female Weasley and even longer to finally accept Fleur as one of their own. The white-haired woman happily clung to every ounce of Ginny's hospitality, knowing it was a difficult task to infiltrate the tightly knit Weasley family. 

“I'm glad you're here,” Bill told the two of them. “There's actually something we wanted to ask you both.”

Ginny was dangling a stuffed dragon in Vic's hands when Bill spoke. She hardly looked up when she answered. “Oh yeah. What's that?”

“Well,” Fleur took a seat on the edge of the sofa, “we would like you to be Victoire's godparents.”

“Don't you usually ask married couples?” Ginny wondered. For a split second, Harry thought his girlfriend had an ulterior motive for bringing up marriage.

“That's usually how it's done,” Bill replied, “but we want both of you in Vic's life and we like to do things differently.”

“Er...sorry,” Harry realized how rude they were being, “we're honoured, really. I guess I just thought you'd pick Charlie or someone in the family.”

“You're practically family,” Fleur assured him.

“And Charlie's my best mate,” Bill explained, “but with him always in Romania, I don't think he is present enough to be a good godfather.”

“Then we're in!” Ginny smirked. Then she turned to the little girl in her boyfriend's arms. “Hear that Vic? You're stuck with us forever.”

The toddler giggled and reached for her young aunt. Ginny lifted her up and rested her goddaughter in the crook of her arm. While the four of them played with the birthday girl, three figures seemed to appear from thin air in the garden. The bright red hair gave them away and Ginny recognized her parents walking inside with her brother Percy. Bill also noticed the three guests at his door and hurriedly let them in, happy to see that his estranged brother was making an effort to spend more time with his family. 

Bill had just poured a round of butterbeer for his guests when the fireplace once again roared with green flames. George stepped out and Angelina was close behind with Fred swaddled in her arms. They were greeted warmly by the rest of the family and soon the house was filled with Weasleys trying desperately to hold the coveted birthday girl. 

But Victoire was not accustomed to being doted on. She couldn't comprehend the fact that all of the guests were present to make her first birthday the most special day she had ever lived. In fact, she was so overwhelmed that she broke down into tears until Fleur lifted her up and carried the sleepy toddler up to the nursery. 

“Is she alright?” Hermione asked when Fleur had returned to the festivities. 

“She's fine,” the veela replied. “Just overwhelmed with so many visitors. I think a nap would do her good.”

“Well,” George clinked his glass to command attention, “with the little one gone, we can start the party!”

His own son was still bundled up tightly in Angelina's arm, sleeping soundly and oblivious to the world. George was testing out a silencing charm and so far it seemed to work on little Fred.


End file.
